


Taken for granted

by SkerandaAo3



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (attempted) murder mystery, Being royalty sucks, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ignis loves his job too much, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Noctis hates his job, Original Character(s), Slight Canon Divergence, caffeine is a drug technically, in the sense it's pre-game anyway, meaning I don't know enough about politics so I made some minor details up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkerandaAo3/pseuds/SkerandaAo3
Summary: Noctis prepares to host envoys from two different countries at once.Whilst everybody is on edge for the safety of their king and prince, nobody stops to consider that assassination attempts against their royalty might not be the only threats to the safety of Insomnia - or the most dangerous.It doesn't help that Ignis is too busy trying to ensure the success of the talks to notice something is wrong.Or that one time Noctis isn't the target.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 180
Kudos: 109





	1. Noctis

It was not even three in the afternoon and Noctis had already decided that this particular day may very well receive a spot on his ‘Top-Ten-Worst-Days-In-His-Life’-List. Not particularly high on said list, as there had been no deaths, attempted murders, accidents or rampant demons (yet), but a spot between number 8 and 6 seemed not so unlikely if the day continued like it had. 

First, he had woken up in the ungodly hours of the early morning (5:30 to be precise). This was not unheard of, since he had been old enough to attend council meetings they had sometimes been scheduled before school started to accommodate him. How very thoughtful. If he ever found out who had come up with _that_ idea, he would fire them. Unless it was his father, or Ignis, or Gladio. He could make an exception for his family.

No, the problem with getting up at 5:30 on this particular day was the fact that he had gone to bed only a few hours earlier, at around 2:00 in the morning, after he had dutifully read every single one of the reports on international affairs.

Which led to the second point on his I-hate-this-day-and-here-is-why-list: The upcoming gala party for the envoys from Niflheim and Tenebrae. Relations were tense between the nations, and whilst it was necessary to actually talk to the people to resolve the issues, Noctis thought it very brave of his father to invite both at the same time. 

The envoys would arrive in three days from now and stay for four more, and his father had insisted that Noctis would play a more active role in the upcoming negotiations, to ‘get some experience’ and ‘start making helpful acquaintances’ or whatever. That also meant that he had to help with preparations, read up on any and all possibly relevant topics he might need, from foreign customs to the other nations internal affairs, and, worst of all, learn the names and faces and family relations of all the people that could possibly be there. He also had an upcoming appointment with his tailor and worse, his dance teacher, to refresh his knowledge of the traditional foreign dances in case some diplomats’ daughter wanted his attention. Ugh. 

It also meant that he was excused from attending school during that time, which would have been great had it not meant that he would be unable to see Prompto in person for a _week_. Noctis would never admit it out loud, but his best friend did wonders in reducing his stress level by just being around. And Six knew he would have needed it this week. So instead he had gotten up early for the express purpose of writing all three tests that the other students would have spread out during the week in two hours, only to leave the building without so much as catching a glimpse of the blonde sunshine child.

He then had to sit through a hasty lunch with a positively annoying Ignis, who had insisted on quizzing him relentlessly on the customs of Tenebrae only to make his signature disappointed face when he revealed to have no idea on how the decoration on the lapels marked standing and relationship status over there. Who _needed_ that? And instead of just explaining it to him, like Noctis knew he could, he had just put another tome on his ever growing stack on the work desk to sort through later. 

The worst part however was the meeting with his father just now. He usually looked forward to those, but today they had met up on the training grounds to work on his magic abilities, and that was when things _really_ started to go south. He could do the simple stuff, like use the Armiger, Phase to dodge enemy attacks and even his healing and elemancy came along nicely. However, today of all days, his father had decided to pick up the issue of warping again. 

It was not that Noctis completely sucked at warping. He had managed it a few times already. But only if he had taken a few moments to properly concentrate, and even then it was a literal hit or miss when it came to going where he actually intended to go. 

“You need to be able to execute a warp in your sleep, son!”, his father had scolded after Noctis had graciously taken aim at a target dummy and only managed to hurdle his sword back into the interdimensional pockets of the Armiger whilst his own body remained firmly situated in reality. 

“I _know_ , but this is just so damn _complicated!_ ”, Noctis shot back. “I have to keep track of like eight things at once, and the Armiger just pulls the weapons in like Gladio inhaling a cup of noodles!” 

“I know this is difficult, son. There is no need to be frustrated. You don’t even want to know how long it took me to get this right.” His dad gave him a weary smile. “However, I would rest more assured if I knew you could get out of a dangerous situation without having to physically bypass the danger. You know full well that the upcoming gala is a security nightmare.” _For us both especially_ , he did not add.

Noctis had turned away with a scowl, resummoning his sword and taking aim again. “If you are so concerned about my safety, I _could_ just stay in my room with a few Kingsglaives and play videogames, you know.” He tried to lighten the mood with a joke. The danger of assassins was always there, and they both had witnessed attempts on their lives in the past years, but it was nevertheless a sore topic. They had already had a security meeting specifically for the event, and another was scheduled for this evening, but thankfully Noctis had gotten Ignis to attend in his stead. Whilst he went over another set of names and family trees. He almost envied his chamberlain. 

With his imagination drifting to daggers on necks, swords through a ribcage, snipers in the towers or poison in the wine, his sword fell on the ground a few feet in front of the dummy, not even a single shred of magic attached to the throw. It clattered loudly in the silence of the training courtyard. 

His father put a hand on his shoulder as Noctis huffed in disappointment. “Why don’t we take a break here?”, his father suggested. “Yea, sure”, Noctis mumbled, a little ashamed of his poor display. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I am just worried about you. You know that, right?”

Noctis gave a nod. “’Course.”

“Warping is a fickle thing, and I pray you will never actually need to resort to it. I am sure the worst danger at this gala will come from either dying of boredom or some overly zealous young ladies fighting for your attention”, his father continued in a conspiratory whisper. “Who knows, maybe there will be one you like?”, he winked. 

“DAD!” 

His father laughed. “I know, I know. None of my business, heh? Now go on, I am sure you have enough to do if your schedule is half as full as mine.”

“Don’t remind me, dad. I wouldn’t be surprised if Iggy had found every last book on Eos that even _mentions_ Tenebrae or Niflheim and deemed them vital knowledge. I’m surprised my desk is still standing.”

“I am sure he only has your best interests at heart. Diplomacy is the most dangerous weapon in the world.”

“I know. Still, he could just tell me what I need to know. He probably has the bloodtypes of the ambassadors figured out.” Noctis rolled his eyes.

His father gave a chuckle. “I would not be surprised if that were the case. Speaking of which…” He made a gesture with his hand in which he ran his index finger over the nail of his thumb. “Have you been to the Doctor yet?”

“No, I planned that for later, when Specs is at the meeting. Can’t have him find out, can we? Although I think I could tell him.”

“You know why that isn’t possible. I do not doubt Ignis loyalty to you, but some things are best kept a state secret for a reason.” His father sighed heavily. 

“I know.”

Noctis felt… bad for keeping things from his closest friends. He couldn’t quite pin the emotion down, but something about that last discussion with his father nagged at him whilst he made his way to his chambers. He understood his fathers’ reasoning. Everybody had a price. You could never know who was eavesdropping. Secrets and gossip travelled fast in the Citadel. Ignis and Gladiolus were employees before they were his friends. They were technically speaking not even _his_ employees. He did not doubt that either of them would lay down their life for his sake, and although he hoped that none of them would ever have to make that choice, the possibility was there. Hell, the last time terrorists tried to infiltrate the citadel they had to give out twelve medals of honor for crownsguards. Post-mortem, of course. At the ceremony, he had felt almost nothing. It was not the first time this happened. It was only a few days after such events that he started to process the implications of people dying to protect him. He had known only some of their names. All because of him….

Noctis snapped to attention as he reached his chambers. It would do him no good to dwell on these things. He had more important matters to attend to. He unlocked the door to his apartment within the citadel and went straight to the kitchen, where he hoped to find his advisor. But the kitchen was empty, and the platters from his lunch were still in the sink. Weird. Ignis was not the type to leave anything but perfect tidiness in his wake. Maybe he was still out? He had mentioned going for a shopping run at some point today, and Noctis training session had been cut rather short. Noctis shrugged to himself, opened the fridge to fish out an energy drink and grabbed some snacks from the cupboard while he was at it, and then set out to his living room. He had gotten off early, so he could maybe, just maybe squeeze in a few rounds on a video game. He made for the couch and stopped as he noticed his work desk. Which was occupied. 

Ignis was already in his best formal wear, already prepared for the security meeting in two hours. This notion was overshadowed by his hunched over posture as his friend sat brooding over at least a dozen papers simultaneously, occasionally marking a passage or putting a post-it on a page. The papers were framed by at least three cans of Ebony coffee, with another one in Ignis hand. He was so preoccupied that he appeared to not even notice him, which was rather unusual. Noctis cleared his throat.

“Highness!” Ignis all but jumped, but he quickly collected himself. “My apologies, I did not hear you enter. I was rather preoccupied, I am afraid. You are back rather early. Are you already finished with your training?”

“Yea, Dad was busy, so I got off. Watcha doing?”

“I was just preparing for the council meeting”, Ignis waved dismissively at the papers, “but I can finish that up later. Would you like something to eat? I was thinking about a noodle dish, perhaps?”

“Sounds great, Iggy.” Noctis flopped down on the couch, grabbed the remote and started to look for his controller under the cushions. 

Ignis made for the kitchen as Noctis called out “Hey Specs, have you seen my controller?”

“Yes. Although I would like to remind you that there are less than three days left until the envoys from Niflheim and Tenebrae arrive, and your knowledge of the social customs of either country is still rather lacking, so might I suggest you use your time to make up on that?” 

_Oh great_ , Noctis thought, _Ignis is in a mood too._ He tried to keep cool and shot a halfhearted grin. “Yea, but training was supposed to go for another hour, so gimme a break. Just until after dinner.”

“Noct, you will have more than enough time for your games after the political discussions are finished. It is your duty as the crown prince to-“

“ _Godsdammit_ , Iggy, I _know_ that. I just want to take _twenty minutes_ out of this _twenty-four hour day_ to maybe relax a little before I get thrown into _literal hell_ for the rest of the week. Where is my controller?” Noctis found himself growing irritated. He knew about his duties. He was reminded every thirty seconds once he stepped outside. People always looked at him, whispered and stared and took pictures and wanted interviews and favors and he did _not_ need that in _his own living room_. Where he was supposed to _relax_. 

“I will fetch it for you”, Ignis relented with a sigh.

“Fetch it?” Noctis was puzzled. Ignis disappeared down the hall and came back with the controller in his hand. Noctis had definitely not taken it there. 

“Did you… Did you _hide_ that from me? On purpose?” Noctis was baffled. 

Ignis handed the device over with a small bow and the decency to look guilty. “I intended to quiz you on the subject again and hand it back after. My apologies.”

“You- I-“ Noctis couldn’t believe it. It had happened before that his toys or games got taken away if he refused to do his homework or the like. When he was a _kid_. And that was most likely approved by his father. And now Ignis just took his stuff?? What the HELL? 

“What the HELL?” He demanded. “You can’t just take my stuff!” 

“I am very sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking-“

“Apparently you weren’t thinking at all” Noctis growled and crossed his arms, ready to confront this ludicrous notion of his retainer to treat him like a _fucking ten year old._

“Indeed.” Ignis did apparently not want to be confronted. He still held his bow, did not meet his eyes. “I apologize again.”

Silence.

“Should I get started on dinner then?” Ignis, still not looking at him, stood up and turned slightly towards the kitchen, but waited for his permission to move.

Noctis glared at him. It was only because he had been in diplomat mode for a week now that he resisted the urge to turn this into a full blown argument. He was tired, he was stressed, he _knew_ Ignis was as well, hell, the whole Citadel was on edge. He was not going to let this go. He just didn’t have the time for it now. So instead he said: “You know what? Don’t bother.” It came out a little more aggravated than he had intended.

“Your Highness?” Ignis shot him a quick glance.

“You are right, we are both supposed to be busy. I can get dinner from the kitchen.”

“Should we go over the internal affairs of Tenebrae then?”

Noctis tried to stay calm. “You know, I think I will be able to do that on my own. Don’t you have a meeting to attend?” It was as close to a dismissal as he could get without outright ordering Ignis out his door. He did not like ordering his friends around.

“Well yes, but there is still plenty of time.”

“Weren’t you, like, busy preparing just now? I’m afraid I will need the desk. Sorry.”

“Yes, that is only a matter of-“

“Ignis. I will find you in your office if I need something.” Noctis hissed through his gritted teeth. He just wanted some quiet, for the love of the gods! He would go to work in ten minutes! He did not need Ignis to hover over his shoulder and point out his every mistake!

Ignis seemed to finally get the message. He looked somewhere between annoyed and ashamed, but he bowed again briefly and grabbed his papers.  
“I will see you tomorrow morning to discuss the meeting with you. Goodnight, your Highness.” His tone was overly formal and devoid of emotion. With a last curt bow, he turned sharply and strode out the door. 

Noctis flopped back onto the sofa. He looked around the room and suddenly felt the urge to get out. With a glance to his watch, he put the controller down onto the table and put his shoes back on. Ignis would not come back after that, and nobody else was expecting him for another two hours. His father had insisted he go see the doctor today, might as well get it over with. If he was lucky, Iris would be on shift at the hospital and he could maybe vent a little to her. So he put on his most inconspicuous jacket, pulled the hood up, and set out to sneak around to the medical building. In his childhood, getting around unseen had been one of his favourite pastimes, and he would not admit it, but he enjoyed it still. And he had only gotten better.


	2. Ignis

Ignis closed the front door of Noctis’ apartment with just a little bit more force than necessary and set off at a brisk pace towards his own chambers. He felt positively ready to kick himself, and by the time he arrived in his own rooms he was more ashamed than he had been in quite a few years. What _had_ he been thinking? Taking away his princes possessions like that?

Ignis frequently cleaned up after Noctis and in the process put his things away, only to be subsequently barraged with text messages when a certain video game or comic book could not be immediately located. But he had _never_ intentionally put something away so that Noctis would not find it. He had basically committed _theft!_

He could be fired for that. He had no doubt that anybody else would have been already. And the only reason he wasn’t was the fact that Noctis considered him a friend and trusted him. A trust he had betrayed. 

Ignis groaned and leaned back in his chair. The papers for the meeting were spread out before him, but his mind was going in circles about the incident and he could not focus on them. He blamed the lack of sleep. 

He had left Noctis in the previous night just before 2 in the morning, after his charge had been almost asleep on the reports he had summarised earlier. Normally, Noctis lived in an apartment in the city, closer to his school, and Ignis saved the time it usually took him to drive back to the citadel, but for the time of the diplomatic visit he had been moved back to his old rooms in the citadel to be present for the events. Still, the citadel was large, and by the time he had made his way down to the kitchens, prepared breakfast for later, and gotten back up, it was almost 3. Noctis had to be at school for his tests at 6:30, and although he had confirmed that Noct had set an alarm for 5:30, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he actually managed to get up on his own. So he had to be back at the rooms of his prince at 5:35 the latest. 

Ignis had then decided that the one hour of sleep he could hope to get was not worth it, and had instead settled for a coffee and a revision of the ambassadors profiles he had put together. If he could shorten the information down as much as possible, Noctis would have an easier time actually navigating the conversations at the gala. Ignis knew that everybody was caught up on the possibility of physical violence, but he was also well aware that one misplaced statement, one comment given in a wrong intonation could make or break these peace negotiations. And he _absolutely_ refused to let Noctis go in there unprepared. 

Maybe this notion combined with his lack of sleep had prompted him to commit this act of stupidity. After all, sleep deprivation had similar effects on the body as alcohol. Was he making excuses? He was making excuses, he realized. But excuses would not cut it. What he needed was to give a proper apology to Noctis.

With a glance to the clock on his wall, he decided to go down towards the kitchens and give that dessert Noctis had mentioned once another try. That would be a good first step. As he walked down the halls, he also took his phone out and scrolled through his contacts before dialling their friend. 

It took him only two rings to pick up. Bless the kid. 

“Iggy! Whats the matter? You guys miss me already?”, came the cheerful voice through the speaker. 

“Hello, Prompto. And yes, we miss you indeed. That is actually why I called you, see, I had this idea that you could maybe assist me with…”

By the time he made it into the kitchens, he had finished three more phone calls and sent a strongly worded email to one of the crownsguards, and he dared to hope that Noctis might be willing to at least put the incident behind him by tomorrow. 

The kitchen was busy, more so then usual, preparations were going strong here as well, although the concerns were of a different nature.

“But it is a traditional Tenebrae dish!”

“And their ambassador is still allergic! This won’t do! Find something else!”

“If we switch the entrées to a cold soup, we could prepare it beforehand and would have at least six extra people to help with the meat dishes, right?”

“Clara, you are a _genius_! I owe you, lemme run this by the chef…”

Ignis smiled and greeted and wove through the bustle to a cooking station in the far corner that was designated as his own. It had been a gift from Noctis after he had moved to the apartment in the city and Ignis found himself either staying there far too late or coming in far too early to prepare meals. 

“Can’t you do this in your own house?”, Noctis had complained more than once, after Ignis’ bustling had prevented him from dozing off on the couch for the umpteenth time. “You know I don’t even like that stuff you are making there!”

“My apologies, Noctis. I simply enjoy to have some company. I find cooking on my own, and for myself only, rather unpleasant. Besides, your kitchen is far better equipped than my own, for some reason.”

Ignis had meant to convey that Noctis was his friend and he liked to stay around a bit after his official duties had ended to simply unwind, but Noctis had of course misinterpreted that statement and, three weeks later on Ignis birthday, presented him with a state of the art cooking station, complete with the best utensils and ingredients money could buy, in the very same kitchen were some of his friends among the staff worked. It had taken all of Ignis self-control to not hug Noctis right there and then. 

One of said friends was currently working on the station beside his, and Ignis raised his voice over the din in the kitchen for a greeting: “Acutis! I had not expected to see you here. Are you not going to the security meeting?”

The other man spun around with a polite smile. “Scientia. I could say the same to you.”

Clovis Acutis was an unassuming man at first glance. He was in his late twenties, with a clean shaven face, and somewhat plain features. His nose had been broken once and was since a little crooked, and his brown hair was shoulder length and mostly tied back in a low ponytail. He wore the same uniform Ignis had donned earlier. Acutis was the secretary to the minister of defence, and therefore was sure to be invited to the meeting. 

What made Clovis stand out was his carefully crafted skill at conversation. He had natural charisma, and he wielded it like a weapon. His dark brown eyes scanned his opponent, his expression shifted into the armour of whatever emotion he deemed fit for the situation, and then he went to work on making them do his bidding. If Ignis had not been convinced of his complete and utter loyalty to crown and country, he would probably have found a way to get the man out of the citadel years ago. 

But it had turned out that they had quite a few things in common. They shared a similar work ethic, they both appreciated the royal library for what it was (to the utter delight of the librarian Susann), they shared at least part of their informant network in the citadel, although that topic was never mentioned in any conversation, they jokingly shared the pain of ungrateful employers (the minister of security had said the words “thank you” three times total in all the time Ignis knew the man), and both their favourite stress relief hobbies took them to the kitchens. Granted, where Ignis turned to baking Acutis was a master of all things beverages, from tea to cocktails, but it was similar enough to have a conversation topic outside of work. 

“I’m afraid Prince Noctis is rather busy and did not appreciate my company today, so I decided to make some pastries to help lighten his mood again”, Ignis said carefully. He was always careful when Noctis was the topic of conversation, but everybody in the citadel was well aware of how difficult their prince could be at times, so it was not like he was revealing something shocking. 

“Tell me about it. Pignus found out I was working on a new tea blend with Tenebrae spices and became obsessed with the idea that I serve it during his negotiations with their ambassadors”, Acutis said with an exasperated sigh. It took Ignis a moment to realise he was talking about the minister of security, Pignus Fiducia. No one he knew dared to address the man with his first name. 

“Well, your teas are quite the work of art, if my limited knowledge on the topic is anything to go by. I’m sure they would appreciate the notion. But you wouldn’t happen to have any coffee at the ready, would you?”  
Ignis scanned the countertops of the neighbouring station, but amidst all the satchels of dried leaves, small bottles with aromas, spices, bags, pots, kettles and at least half a dozen discarded cups, he had no idea what his friend was actually doing. Something smelled heavenly, though.

“I can make you one, give me a sec”, Acutis said as he pulled yet another cup from his neverending supplies. He gave Ignis a curious sideglance and busied himself with the water kettle. “I am assuming you did not sleep last night as well.”

It was more a statement than a question, but Ignis felt compelled to answer anyway. 

“Am I that obvious?”

He tried to look at his reflection in the chrome surface of a nearby fridge.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. This week is hell for all of us. I was just asking in the hope I am not alone in my suffering. When this meeting is over, I am going to drop dead on my floor and sleep until this whole visit is over”, Acutis remarked, but Ignis could tell that there was none of the real spirit that accompanied their usual banter behind it. 

He glanced at Ignis and awaited a response, but as none came, he turned his full attention back on him. 

“Everything alright with you? Aside from being tired?” This time there was actual concern. Ignis contemplated. He could not tell Acutis exactly what happened, but his friend had a way with people that Ignis in his calculating mind often lacked, and maybe he could give him some advice. 

“I… may have unwillingly upset the prince earlier”, he admitted. “I wanted to help him prepare for the upcoming visit and in my eagerness may have overstepped some boundaries. Needless to say, he was not that happy.”

Acutis paused for a second to think.

“That why you are making those again?”, he asked and nodded towards the pastries taking shape.

“Yes. I hoped to present them as a peace offering when I hand in the report for todays’ meeting.”

Acutis gave a reassuring smile. “Well, I am sure it will work out just fine. I know prince Noctis appreciates your services greatly. Besides, he hasn’t fired you yet, so how bad can it be, really?”

Ignis gave a chuckle. “It is not like he _can_ fire me. If he could, I wouldn’t have survived my first year in the citadel. But thank you for the reassurance.”

There was a brief pause as Acutis busied himself with some cups and sugar before he gave him another curious glance as he pressed a cup of coffee into his hand.  
“What do you mean he can’t fire you? You have some privilege I am unaware of?”

“No, it’s just that my contract is with the king rather than the prince. Noctis was four when I came into his service, after all.”

“So unless the prince convinces his father that vegetables are comparable to an attempt on his life, you are safe. I don’t see why you would need to worry. And King Regis appreciates you as well. He even asks for your input in the meetings.”

“That is true. Still…” Ignis took a sip of his coffee. If Regis found out about todays’ incident, it would surely reflect poorly on him. He knew that the personal servants of the innermost circle in the citadel were under constant scrutiny. Every eight to twelve months, there was an inofficial investigation on them. It was never mentioned in any writing and he never received any of the results of these reports, but he noticed that in these times people would ask more questions, the combat training was suddenly more intense until one day Cor Leonis himself would ‘coincidentally’ drop by to watch, and at the end of it all the King himself would invite him for tea under the pretense of inquiring about Noctis wellbeing and his progress at school. He suspected his rooms had been searched more than once as well. 

It was not that he minded, terribly, it made a lot of sense on a logical level, and he doubted even Noctis knew about this. He was also fairly certain that even the Kings own advisors were subject to this scrutiny. No, what bothered him was the fact that it had been almost a year since he last had the pleasure of an interrogation with the king, and the upcoming event was the perfect opportunity to test him in the environment of diplomacy and politics, which would be Noctis’ and his not-so-distant future. And he had not been performing well these days. 

He noticed he was outright scowling as he followed that train of thought, and Acutis picked up on his discomfort and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“Hey, cheer up, Scientia. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Hey, would you mind testing this tea for me? I could use an honest opinion.”

It was obvious Acutis was trying to distract him, but Ignis was thankful nonetheless. He looked over as Acutis started to measure dried leaves, spices and little bottles of various aroma extracts, put them into a filter and got out a thermostat to monitor the water temperature. He worked with determination and practice and rambled on about the ingredients and the order of the steps to help distract him from darker thoughts. Ignis appreciated it greatly, although he was too tired to really follow the conversation. 

He got distracted midway through anyway to take the pastries out of the oven, and as he made some finishing touches to his latest creation he was handed a cup of dark amber coloured liquid that smelled of spices and a little bit vanilla. 

Acutis watched him like a hawk as Ignis tried the tea. It was definitely a spice blend, but there was a fruity note as well that he couldn’t quite identify. 

Ignis hummed and took another sip. It was a little bitter in the aftertaste.

“Is it supposed to taste bitter?” Ignis cut straight to the heart of the matter, he knew they both had no love for unnecessary pleasantries. 

Acutis sighed. “No, it’s not. It’s the main problem with this mix really, and it has gotten better already. I kinda hoped I was imagining it at this point.”

“Otherwise it is quite pleasant, you know.”

“No need to take pity on me. I think the problem is the heat on the cinnamon bark. It just sits there too long. Maybe if I add it a few minutes into the infusing process…”

They exchanged a few ideas on the matter, but the stress of the previous days had them both exhausted, and by the time they got to cleaning their stations they had lapsed into companionable silence. 

As they excited the kitchens to head towards their meeting, Acutis grabbed two thermos cans from his shelf and handed one to him.

“Coffee”, was the only thing he said.

“Astrals know we’ll need it. Thank you.”

As they strode through the corridors, Acutis started rummaging through his bag and fished out a slim folder.

“Hey Scientia, you still summarise these reports, right?” he asked suddenly. 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Ignis wasn’t quite sure where that question came from.

“Well, this is a security matter, and I kinda do the same thing _before_ these meetings, you know, since Pignus dictates about ninety percent of the topics here. So, if you want, I could give you my summarised report. I have even some notes on the finances of the whole affair” Acutis said in a conspiratorial whisper. 

Ignis frowned. “This is a very kind offer, but are you sure that is allowed? From a legal standpoint, I mean. These things are surely confidential…?”

Acutis shook his head. “There is nothing in there that won’t come up anyway. It’s just less flowery language and some added notes in which I curse our financial distributions. The really juicy stuff I don’t even write down”, he added with a wink. “I just thought it would give you an excuse to go to his Highness' rooms and deliver your present, you know?”

“If the meeting does not go on until midnight that is”, Ignis carefully objected. He was really touched by the nice gesture, and it would save him at least three hours of work. 

“Don’t worry about that. As I said, our department brings most of the talking points, and there is not much that _really_ needs debating. I reckon we’ll be out at nine the latest.”

“Well, in that case, it seems like I owe you a favour in kind. Thank you, Acutis,” Ignis said as he accepted the papers and started skimming them over. 

Acutis flashed him a genuine smile “I’ll take you up on that the next time you get a shipment of these fancy spices. Where do you _get_ that stuff?”

“Trade secret. But I think I will order some soon.”

As they headed into the council room, Ignis was in a better mood than he had been all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words on chapter 1. I had the second one ready to go, so here you are. I intend on updating at least once a week, but I have a lot planned out already, so we'll see how fast I can write it out.


	3. Noctis

By the time Noctis arrived in the hospitals laboratory to locate Dr. Iciar, Queen of the ER and co-conspirator in his current endeavour, a record low four and a half people knew where he currently was. Three of which were the nurses he had encountered in the breakroom on the first floor after hauling himself in through the window with the help of a tactically resituated trashcan outside, one was Iris Amicitia, who was currently in said laboratory working on… (something, probably? Hell if he knew), and the half point went to his father who did at least know he was planning on being here sometime today, and thus surely could figure it out if he needed to. 

Iris was currently situated on a wobbly stool in front of a cluttered table and apparently had gotten the detested job of refilling emergency supplies. She wore the uniform of the citadel nurses, white with the signature black embroidery over her chest and on her back, and she would have looked quite fashionable were it not for the oversized safety goggles and the standard rubber gloves in a frankly atrocious shade of dark blue she had also equipped.

She briefly glanced in his direction as he entered, but decided to ignore him for the moment. Her brows were knitted together in a concentrated frown and she had even the tip of her tongue stuck out trying to get whatever she was doing right. So he leaned back against the wall and waited patiently for her to finish. He used the time to glance around the room. 

Three doors led out, the one through which he had just entered led to the break rooms and the storage, the one on the opposite side led to the intensive care units, and on the right you could reach ER and surgery. The room was filled with a maze of tables and countertops, all crammed with beeping analytical devices, whirring centrifuges, fridges full of blood samples and perishable test substances, containers full of disinfectants and therein soaking equipment, microscopes and shelves full of various containers and syringes. Nurses were constantly entering with new samples, handing them over with lists of the requested analyses and the latest gossip about patients, family and apparently a new doctor in internal medicine that no one could stand. 

They were all far too busy to pay him any mind. Besides, it was not like he was that uncommon of a presence here. He nodded politely to one of the head nurses just as Iris let out a relieved sigh and finally turned around to greet him. 

“Hey there, Noctis. Are you trying to hide again? Or… are you here to see me? How nice of you!” She was obviously teasing, but he decided to play along.

“I decided to quit my job and run away to become a potato farmer in Leide, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to come along.”

“Why, are we eloping? How romantic!”

“No, I need you as a meat shield in the almost inevitable case Gladio comes after me to drag me back, you are the only one that can stand up to him.” He pushed himself off the wall and stepped over to her workstation, before continuing in a more hushed tone, “Actually, I am looking for Iciar, she around?”

“Ohhh, yea, last I saw her she was going in for surgery on a nasty case of appendicitis, and from what I heard since then, the damn thing burst, so she’s gonna be in there for a while.”

“Just my luck. Any estimates?”

“I’d say half an hour?”

“Guess I’ll wait.” He sighed and looked over the mess on the table again. There was a method to the madness here, he just couldn’t quite grasp it. “Anything I can help you with?”, he offered. 

“What, you’re not going for a nap in the break room? Who are you and what happened to Noctis?” She looked at him with mock disbelief. “But sure, I could use a hand or five.”

He pulled another chair up to the table, helped himself to a matching set of security equipment and cleared a little space on the table in front of him. “What do you need me to do?”

Iris looked around the chaos, and then handed him half a dozen packets of glass ampoules, as many syringes as she could grab with one hand and a pen.  
“If you could just get these ready and labelled, and if you have it in you give the ones with adrenaline a little uumph, you would make my day.”

“You got it.” They lapsed into silence for a short time whilst they got into the rhythm of their respective tasks. Noctis knew what he was doing, and the comparatively mundane and repetitive work let him finally relax a little bit. 

In seventh grade, his school had done this thing were they had his class do a sort of internship for two weeks, so they could figure out what they maybe wanted to do after they graduated. Noctis had had mixed feelings about the whole event, because he had really no choice in that matter, and he doubted he would be allowed to just go out and try working something mundane, because he would surely cause a stir wherever he ended up. In his mind, there had been three possible outcomes:

One: He would get two weeks off school to do whatever else his father and tutors had planned for him.

Two: His father would allow him to go along with him on royal duty. And whilst he was always excited to spend time with his father, he had already been disillusioned with the actual work, which was a lot of talking and reading and signing complicated things and less ‘Do as I say because I am the king’, like he had thought when he was very little. He’d wondered if he would have to write a resume like the other students. 

Applying for: Monarch of Lucis  
Qualifications: I am my fathers’ son.  
Why I am suited for this work: Prophecy says so

Three: He could _actually_ pick a job that interested him and go about it like the rest of his class. You know, like a _normal_ person. 

In the end, his first guess had been pretty close, although he would have never imagined what it was that they had planned for him, even though in hindsight it made kind of sense. His father had insisted on sending him to the hospital for a two week crash course on first aid. In case he would get hurt and have no healing magic or potions at his disposal. Like that one time. 

It was not that Noctis was outright scared of hospitals and doctors. Yes, he had spent more time in one by the age of ten than other people did in their entire life, but he had understood that it was necessary. No, it was more the idea that _he_ had to learn how to do all this stuff, and that _he_ would have to learn how to poke needles into arms and stitch wounds closed and Oh Gods what if he had to see a broken bone? Both Ignis and Gladio knew very well what to do in an emergency, the crownsguard received mandatory training every six months, and the last time he had been further than ten meters from another living person was when he had climbed a sycamore in a park. And even then, it had been vertical distance and a lot of worried shouting from Prompto and Iggy to please come back down. 

It had taken his father two hours of heated discussion to convince Noctis to agree. In the end, he had promised to allow Noctis on a field trip with his friends and the Regalia. _Outside_ the wall. Noctis had wanted to go see the world beyond for years by that point, and he couldn’t let the opportunity slip. Plus, _no guards_. So he begrudgingly agreed. A week later, he showed up on his first day and was surprised by the fact that apparently, Doctor Iciars idea of teaching him first aid was to drag him along into the ER surgery and have him watch her work whilst explaining way too many things in a very fast, very charming accent and actually having him work alongside (the easy, harmless tasks, like fetching stuff and cleaning. At first.) 

By the end of the two weeks, he knew how to treat pretty much any external injury, judge them by severity and prioritise them, knew how to draw blood courtesy of some very patient nurses, could set up an IV, administer medication in any way possible, and had an impressive amount of supplies stocked in his Armiger. He also discovered how to infuse liquids with healing magic and on that day alone added a dozen packets of apple juice, at least twenty water bottles and a carton of milk to his curatives. Good thing the Armiger doubled as a very effective fridge. 

And most importantly, he had actually enjoyed the experience. He was aware that his duty as future King would be to help the people of his country and ensure they could lead happy and safe lives, but he would do it in the abstract ways of signing decrees and proposals and regulating trade routes and the such. Here, he had been able to see a problem and help towards an immediate solution, and the people had been grateful and thanked him and it was great to see his efforts rewarded. He had felt validated in what he did. It was a somewhat refreshing experience to see the immediate consequences of his actions, or rather see consequences through his actions immediately, and not from a summarised financial report two months after the release of a decree. 

The best thing however was that everybody on the staff treated him like a regular person. They did not have the time to go out of their way to accomodate him, the nurses had no qualms about letting him know when he was in the way or to send him do the cleaning so they could focus on the things he could not be trusted with. After he proved to be a quick learner, one of them by the name of Maya had dragged him into the lab to show him how to do anything bloodwork, which was simple but time-consuming, so she could take the day and focus on inventory. A little overwhelmed, he had been left to his own devices.

But even when he made mistakes, like when Iciar found him loading a centrifuge on that same day and discovered he was about to destroy the thing by not putting in an appropriate counterweight, it was a wholly different reaction than when he messed up in training or at school. Gladio pointed out his mistakes by poking fun at him, Ignis gave him that _look_ like his ancestors had been insulted, his father tried to downplay is failures to keep him happy, and his teachers and tutors did this thing where they just tried to avoid acknowledging his imperfections altogether or worse, fix it themselves in the hopes he would not notice. Iciar had just looked at him, asked him if he was going to put the counterweight in, and when he gave her a questioning look without answering she had simply explained what he was supposed to do, and why the counterweight was important, and then had pointed him to a folder of instruction manuals for the devices in the lab. She did not judge, she was not angry, and she did not intervene further than she had to and most importantly she believed that he would not do it again and left it at that. Even when he made the same mistake more than once. 

When he did something that could have really bad consequences, like forgetting to label a syringe or put on gloves before handling the samples, she also gave him a polite but heartfelt lecture as to why these rules were there in the first place and that an unlabled syringe could contain anything from NaCl to morphine and that in a hurry they had to know which was which, he had just quietly apologized and promised not to do it again instead of playing it down like he usually would, because there was really no room for discussion here. Those mistakes, like the labelling, not following a safety precaution, not admitting he did not _actually_ know what to do next and then flounder when he tried to do it anyway, not cleaning up immediately when he spilled blood or iodine, those he had made precisely once. It had really helped with his attitude towards his responsibilities, much to his teachers' delight when school resumed. 

So, even after he was back to regular school and his annoying princely duties, he had started paying the occasional visit to his ex-colleagues to help out with the easier tasks and talk for a little bit, especially after Iris had taken up a part-time job to get some experience. Noctis had no siblings, so the job market for royal Shields was currently saturated, and she had to consider an alternate career. Gladio had been very happy when she had expressed interest in the medical corps of the crownsguard, and Noctis had silently agreed. Iris was one of the few genuine friends he had, and she was just not cut out for fighting. Not that she was unable to, she packed a mean punch, but she was more the nurturing type. And she was not half bad with healing magic either. 

So he had started to also come in if he wanted someone to talk that wasn’t either paid by his father or responded to the name of Prompto. Since their first meeting in the gardens, he and Iris had been conspirators more than once. Prompto, as much as Noctis loved him, was not cut out for secrecy, so Iris had been his go-to source for figuring out birthday presents or disposing of evidence when he broke the occasional priceless art piece. 

“Hey, Iris?”, he asked casually as he opened another glass ampoule with a satisfying _*snap*_. 

“Hm?”

“So, I had a… kind of argument with Ignis earlier.”

“Astrals help me, don’t tell me you are fighting too?” She sounded really annoyed. 

Huh. That was definitely not the reaction he had been expecting.

 _*Snap*_ Another ampoule. He concentrated as he imbued it with healing magic. 

“We are not fighting, it was just an argument. And I’ll have you know right away that it was _his_ fault and I did nothing wrong.” He paused. “What do you mean, ‘You too’?”

Iris made a motion to put her face in her hands and thankfully remembered that she was wearing protective gloves and working with dangerous chemicals, so she settled for an angry stare at the ceiling. 

“It’s nothing, just that Ignis hasn’t been to training in a week and Gladdy is a little miffed about it. Something along the lines of ‘I get that the Princess is allowed to ditch these times, but I didn’t think you’d abandon me here too.’” Her impression of Gladio was surprisingly accurate save for the higher octave. 

_*snap*_ Noctis had no idea why that would be important to their current discussion. As she didn’t elaborate, he inquired further. 

“Specs is not going to training?”

“How do I know that and you don’t? Anyway, Gladdy is grumpy because all the higher-up crownsguards are busy doing whatnot, and he is stuck instructing the newbies on basic routines and protocols. He said Ignis would do a better job at explaining the logistics, but I think he feels bad because he can beat the small guys up in under ten seconds and he misses a challenge.”

_*Snap*_

“Huh. I thought Iggy was doing nothing but logistics? He has been putting together at least ten reports a day to drop on me, and he has been constantly nagging me about at least another ten he is in the process of summarising any given time. I swear he has a computer in that brain, and there are thirty open tabs 24/7. It’s so annoying.”

“Is that what you were fighting about?”

“What? No! If he wouldn’t sum those up for me, I would be completely lost. Have you seen the guest lists? There are at least seventy people showing up, and that’s counting just the important ones! That yearbook he made me with all their pics and names is gonna prevent another war in of itself, seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without him. And I hate to be angry at him, but he _really_ did it this time, and it pisses me off because I don’t have the time or the energy to be mad. I just wish he would stop treating me like a child. He is not even that much older than me! And then he pulls something like _that_!”

“Oh wow. Sounds like you are seriously worked up about this.” Iris stopped for a moment to gage his expression. “I mean, the two of you are bickering all the time, but I can’t recall you ever actually _fighting_.”

“Don’t say that. We are not really fighting”, Noctis murmured and waved a hand in a vague dismissing motion. 

“That’d mean there are two sides standing their ground, and we both know that he is in the wrong this time. Besides, I don’t think Ignis is capable of actually being in an argument with any of us. I mean sure, he always goes around like a big spoilsport about ‘safety this’, ‘protocol that’, ‘the rules state otherwise’ and of course the godsdamned ‘eat your vegetables’, but whenever I do as much as insist a little harder he just immediately backs down.”

Noctis impression of Ignis was not as good as Iris’ of Gladio, and she giggled a little as he absolutely butchered the way their friend talked. He faked a punch to her shoulder as he waited for her to calm down so he could continue. 

“He’s a big softie at heart and you know it. Maybe more than Gladio. Not as much as Prompto. I’m kinda glad that he’s playing the role of the responsible one, Six know we’d have been arrested at least once otherwise, but sometimes I feel, like, that he is just trying too hard, if that makes sense?”

“Does he know that?”

*Snap*

“Wha-? Of course?”

“I mean, did you ever tell him that? Not the part about him being a softie, but that you appreciate what he does for you? You know, something along the lines of ‘Thank you’?”

Noctis paused. He felt like Iris was preparing some kind of scheme. 

“In the last three weeks?” Iris interjected just as he was about to say something along the lines of ‘I’m sure I’ve mentioned it once’. She knew him too well. 

_*Snap*_

“No…” He scowled at her. “But that’s also kinda not the point here! He was being _really_ obnoxious this time.”

“Ohmygods what did he actually _do_? Either tell me or save it, but quit whining!” Iris screeched as she kicked her chair back to swivel around and face him full on. After checking for sharp objects she even slammed her hand on the table for extra effect. 

It was an invitation to rant if he’d ever seen one. 

“Well, first off, he kept me up until two AM last night, and then, barely three hours later, he comes charging back into my rooms basically screaming bloody murder about Tenebrae dress etiquette, and of course I had no idea what he even wanted from me, so I told him to shut the hell up until breakfast.”

“Sounds like a perfectly normal day so far, but carry on.”

“Don’t make fun of hell week.”

_*Snap*_

“So, anyway, I went to school and then to training with my dad and I thought everything was fine, and I got off early, so I think to myself ‘why not take a little break and play a game’, you know?”

Iris gave an affirmative nod.

“So, I come in, and Specs is already there, and I just about managed to shoo him off into the kitchen so he would give the reports a rest, and I look around for my controller and would you know it, it’s not there. So I ask Iggy where he put it, and get this: He took it and _hid it away from me_ to bribe me into learning those damn colour coded lapels from Tenebrae. Can you believe it?”

Iris blinked at him. “So… You are mad at him because he took your stuff?”

“Well yea!”

“But he gave it back when you asked?”

“Uh-hu.”

Iris stared.

_*Snap*_

_*Snap*_

“I don’t… see your problem?” She finally offered.

“Wha- You- He took my stuff without even asking!”

“If I or Gladdy threw a tantrum every time we stole each others stuff we wouldn’t hear the end of it, geez. Our father would have disowned us and kicked us to the street ages ago. Don’t you think you might be overreacting? I was expecting that one of you at least broke something! Just wait until he apologizes and leave it be.” She had the gall to look disappointed at his predicament. 

“I mean, he already kinda did, to be honest.” Was he overreacting? Or were the Amicitias just a strange household? He really couldn’t tell.

“Then accept it and move on, none of us have _time_ for this.”

Some device started beeping in the far corner and Iris got up to look at the paper it spat out, mumbling something about “Only children” and “bane of society”, and something that sounded suspiciously like “hope whatever Queen we get knows how to deal with pre-schoolers.” He decided not to ask. When she came back she said “This is from Iciars next patient, she’s bound to come in any second now. Prepare to ambush her before she can escape again!”, she told him with a grin. 

Noctis gave a nod and focused on the right hand door whilst they continued their work in silence. Inside the hospital, the only authority the Doc respected was her own, which was another reason he liked to hang out. Not even his father dared stand up to her in her own holy halls. But this time it meant that he would have to latch onto her before she could leave the room (which on average took her five seconds) and pray that he was not interrupting her doing something important, in which case he would be in for a lecture for sure.

He had just snapped open the last glass container, and apparently that concluded a weird summoning ritual, because at that moment a short, stocky woman in her late forties came rushing through in the most impressive powerwalk he had ever seen, black her flowing behind her and near-black eyes taking in the room in a split second. He gave her a quick wave and cocked his head to the side to motion her over. She nodded, pressed some blood samples into the hands of a bypassing nurse and gave instructions in her usual commanding voice, the impact softened by her unique accent and her slight misuse of grammar. “I want usual bloodwork with kidneys and the thyroid, the results you can give to Hamish. I will be making a break now.” The younger woman nodded and rolled her eyes behind the Doctors back, silently bemoaning her increasing workload. 

“Noctis, what do we owe the honour to? Hiding from your homework again, no? If your father again will be intruding here, I will not be so nice this time!”

Noctis grinned and shook his head. He remembered the incident where he had just stopped in to say hello, but had been immediately recruited for the laboratory curtesy to an especially bloody mess in room 114 keeping the nurses busy on clean-up. When he had been ‘missing’ for two hours his father had suddenly barged in together with both their retinues and four crownsguards, sending Iciar into a passionate lecture about the meaning of the phrase ‘authorised personnel only’, and how he could not just barge in here without permission. “I do not care what the issue here is, you standing in the way are and I have a hospital to run, so force me not to call the security. Next time ask the front desk, I have not the time to be dealing with you here, who let you in anyway?”, and so on, for twenty minutes. The expressions on his fathers’ face as she threatened to summon his own security personnel against him had been priceless. _That_ mistake his father had not cared to repeat. 

“No need to be alarmed, Doc. I am just here for the… uh… the thing?” He stopped himself just in time as he remembered Iris sitting right behind him, and instead opted to repeat the motion his father had shown earlier in the hopes the Doc would understand what he meant by rubbing his fingers over the nail of his thumb. “You know?”, he added. 

She gave a court nod and unceremoniously dragged him along by the arm as she had long overstayed her five-second-average in the lab. “Sure, I have prepared it in the storage. Come with.”

“Already am!” he wheezed, trying to get his arm back. That iron grip of hers was no joke. 

When they arrived at the storage room, she went straight to the back, opened the little safe on the wall and pulled out a small white paper bag. 

“There. And forget not the lid to close this time. Your taxpayers angry will be if I have this year to order more. And now I _will_ be making that break. Good day, Noctis”, and off she went, before he could get a word in. 

“Thank you, Iciar!” No response. Oh well, he thought and checked the contents of the bag. There were two glass bottles. One looked to be a nondescript bottle of clear nail polish, and the other seemed to be a standard curative of some sort. Noctis knew better. He deposited the bag into his Armiger for the time being and set off to resume his battle against the papers on his desk. The bottles were one of the many lines of defence the royal family had set up around themselves.

His great-grandmother had apparently first come up with the idea: The bottle of ‘nail polish’ was actually an indicator for all sorts of poisons. It was applied like the actual thing, but if tested against contaminated food, drink, saliva or blood, it would change colour to a blueish black. And even though it was rather unspecific when it came to the type of poison, it did not matter, because the second bottle contained the single most powerful antidote in existence, concocted by an absolute prodigy in the field of magical medicine (their former physicians’ words, not his), that would upon use negate all poisons in the bloodstream and continue to do so for thirty-six to fifty-two hours. Noctis wondered who had been paid to figure that out. When he had asked why they wouldn’t just use one before any official event, he had heard something about unpleasant side effects after prolonged use, and he had left it at that. Apparently the stuff was also right next to a really fancy car or an average apartment in the city on the price range.

The important thing was that since his ancestor had invented this, the whole existence of these things was kept a closely guarded secret. At the moment, only the royal family and the three doctors that actually manufactured the stuff knew about it. And that had given rise to the rumour that the line of Lucis was immune to poisoning, which in turn discouraged their enemies to even try. Still, if someone was to give this another shot, the gala party would be _the_ occasion. Noctis pondered over how someone would try to go about poisoning him or his father at the event in an attempt to be prepared for all sorts of scenarios whilst he locked himself in his bathroom and pulled the nail polish back out of thin air. He would have to wait and see.

He ordered some food from the kitchens and watched a little TV whilst he waited for the cursed stuff to dry (and to think there were people who did this kind of stuff for _fun_. Seriously, why?) and afterwards decided he might as well use the occasion to practice. 

When he was younger, he could get away with ‘accidentally’ spilling a drop of his drink and quickly wiping it off to test it for anything that did not belong in there, but now he had to adhere to the unfortunate rule of table manners and with more attention on him, he had to try harder to be subtle about these things. He had a few tricks his father had shown him, he knew for example that a drop wiped up with a napkin would suffice to trigger a response, or that a subtle cough could disguise the motion of a finger swiping along his lip, but they could not be used too often without raising questions about his health or his proficiency with cutlery. 

One method he had discovered for himself was to pretend to take a sip of whatever he was currently drinking without doing more than getting a drop on the rim of the glass, which would then drip down to his thumb on his own. It required some amount of dexterity to pull off, he had to hold the glass just right and then also shift his whole grip a little upwards to create the illusion of an emptying glass in case his conversational partners payed attention to the amount of liquid still left. It worked well with cold drinks, the condensation disguised the whole spiel just fine, but it could also cause the glass to slip out of his grasp if he wasn’t careful. He tried it a few times with iced water in front of his mirror, and he felt equal parts ridiculous and anxious. Yes, it looked stupid, him in his oldest, most comfortable clothes holding a flute and practicing how to not drink. He would have laughed at himself had his mind not been conjuring images of him and his father being in a room full of nicely dressed, polite people that would probably benefit from their death. 

He practiced again and again throughout the evening, and three hours into his reading he had only spilled his drink two times and destroyed one glass, although it didn’t really count since he pushed it off whilst rearranging his paperstacks. Not his fault Iggy had set them up like he was trying to play Tetris. He had just finished gathering up what he hoped was the last shard and putting the last wet folder on top of the heater when there was a knock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: No one cares about the details of laboratory duty, keep it short!  
> Also me: Laboratory is the best place in the clinic because people actually leave you alone let me praise the holy halls of peace!
> 
> So yea, I guess my job influenced this part a lot, but I also found it really easy and not too far-fetched to integrate with Noctis background. And it is an excellent excuse for things to come, so I am not ashamed. Hope you enjoy!


	4. Ignis

The meeting had been going for a little more than an hour when the headache started to kick in. It was a direct follow-up to the big meeting they’d had almost two weeks prior, to sort out any problems and conflicts that had arisen then and needed time to be rewritten and reconsidered. In theory, that should mean that the issues would be swiftly resolved and they could continue on with their other duties. In practice however, it meant that the people assembled had nothing _but_ these problems to talk about, and most of them were not willing to relent. If anything, they had taken the two weeks to prepare more arguments. 

Currently, Clarus, the King’s Shield, was in a very heated discussion with the minister of external affairs about the presence of the Crownsguard during the welcoming of the envoys and subsequent parade to the Citadel. Clarus wanted to have the entire route cordoned off and guards posted at every corner and intersection, whilst the minister insisted on a display of Insomnias prosperity, and ordering a curfew was _not_ the way to go about it. They had been at it for at least ten minutes, and they were talking in circles. 

Internally, Ignis gave a heavy sigh. He glanced around the tables and tried to get a feel for the general mood of the other people in the room. It was a smaller gathering than last time, the heads of staff had received their instructions and the finances had been sufficiently discussed as well. The Crownsguard was represented by Cor Leonis without any further officers present save Monica, who handled the supplies and equipment, as Clarus’ sole responsibility for the next week was the safekeeping of King Regis, who sat at the head of the table next to his Shield. 

Gladio was given a similar task regarding Noctis, and followed the argument halfheartedly, although his fathers’ presence made him sit up straighter than usual. He caught Ignis looking at him and subtly rolled his eyes. Ignis raised an eyebrow in response and gave a slight smirk. At least he wasn’t the only one annoyed. 

Fiducia and Acutis sat across from him and were currently having a hushed conversation about something in their notes. Ignis glanced down at his own copy and tried to figure out how many points were still left to discuss, averaging the time the previous discussions had taken to get an estimate on the remaining time on this personal torture of his. He had a hard time focusing, the letters were blurring on the page and it took physical willpower to make sense of the writing. His heartbeat made his head pound in tandem, and the starched fabric of his attire made the stuffy air in the room that much more uncomfortable.

Fiducia started arguing in favour of Clarus’ idea of a reinforced military presence when he felt a kick to his shin under the table. He looked up and saw Acutis staring daggers at him and tapping his pen insistently at his papers. Ignis looked down at his copy again, and saw a handwritten note next to the underlined phrase _Discussion of pros and cons regarding the curfew and increased guard during the parade_. It simply read _Sure, give the reporters a field day_. Ignis glanced back up with a confused look. 

He understood that Acutis had a point, the media would probably go crazy about a state-issued curfew, especially since the talks were supposed to be about a peace treaty, but why would that warrant this violence against his legs? Acutis motioned to Fiducia, then pointed at himself with his pen and waved a hand in front of his neck whilst shaking his head. It finally clicked that Acutis could not speak this clearly personal opinion against his own boss and was asking Ignis to do it for him. 

Ignis would normally not interject himself into these conversations, but Acutis had a point and he had already promised that he owed him for the notes, so he politely waited for a moment of silence before he said “If I may, Mr. Fiducia, Mr. Amicitia, I do certainly see your point, and the wellbeing of the royal family is of course my priority, but have you considered the message we would be sending if we turned this into a military parade? The media would surely take this as an opportunity to question the credibility of the peace talks, and the tabloids and gossip magazines could put out some less than favourable rumours about the relationships between the nations.”

He felt all eyes on him, and fought the urge to shrink back in his seat. He had to look confident, even though he spoke out of turn to present an argument that wasn’t his, and he hoped they would not ask him to elaborate because he knew nothing more about the subject. He looked at Acutis for any sort of feedback, but the other man was looking at the King in an attempt to evade Fiducias stare. The minister seemed to have recognized the argument as his subordinates’, and was seemingly not pleased with being undermined like this.

“That is a very valid point, Mr, Scientia. Thank you for your input. We will not issue a curfew. Mr. Fiducia, Clarus, if we stationed guards in civil clothing along the route, wouldn’t that be sufficient reinforcement? See to it, and feel free to get the police involved should we need manpower.” And just like that, the King decided the argument of the last fifteen minutes in a few short sentences and the meeting progressed to the next item on the list. 

Ignis rubbed his temples once more. The voices of the others blended together into white noise, and he really regretted not getting the three hours of sleep last night. He had to concentrate hard to even make out any words, and apparently they had moved on to the positioning of the guards in the ball room for the main event. A tactical nightmare, if he were to judge. He referenced the papers and found even more handwritten notes on the topic, but he could make no sense out of them. He was glad he would not have to bother with a summary himself, he was barely listening today. After the meeting, he would go apologise to Noctis, drop the report off with it and then head straight to sleep. 

He took a tentative sip of his coffee, and although Acutis’ skill showed in the frankly incredible flavour, he would have traded it for a single sip of cold water in an instant. He figured that they were about two thirds done with the meeting, at least regarding the official points, and the more pressing issues had already been dealt with, so he hoped this would be over soon. 

“Could you please tell us Prince Noctis’ opinion on the subject, Ignis?” King Regis’ voice cut through. 

Oh no. Ignis sat up straighter and snapped his head up to meet the gazes of the people now turning to him. How long had he spaced out? Were they still talking about the ball room? Or did they move on to another topic? And had he even discussed this point with Noctis? 

He took a second to reply. “Ah, yes, of course, one moment, your Majesty…” he started and made a show to sort through his notes in an effort to buy time whilst he desperately tried to come up with _something_. He knew he could just ask to have the question repeated, but he was still angry with himself for earlier and he was not prepared to mess this up as well. It was a stupid sentiment of pride and an ill-directed attempt at perfectionism for the purpose of upholding his image, but still. He was not prepared to give anybody any more ammunition against him, not today. 

He was saved by Gladio, although he didn’t know if his friend noticed his predicament or if it was pure, lucky coincidence. “Actually, Noctis made a point yesterday when I asked him about that. Said he’d prefer to entrust the guards shifts to either me or my old man, and I said I’d do it if he wants me to” Gladio said and shrugged before he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pockets and handed it to Clarus. “I have a draft if you want to look it over.”

So they _had_ moved on to the next topic. Ignis glanced back down at the notes. _Reinforcement of guard outside private chambers, redistribution of patrol?_ Next to it was a handwritten note, presumably from Acutis, that simply said _Avoid overworking the staff_. 

Ignis cleared his throat to get the attention back to him and added “I received a similar opinion when I ran the plans by his Highness, although I believe Gladiolus might be more informed on the matter than I currently am. I would, however, like to point out that our security staff is stretched rather thin already, and we should keep their wellbeing in mind as well, lest it affect their performance.” The irony of the last statement was not lost on him. 

It was a very subtle non-answer, but the King seemed satisfied and nodded. Ignis relaxed back into his chair a little and started to reach for his coffee again. Only seven more points to go. He could do this. Across the table, Gladio raised a questioning eyebrow. So he _had_ noticed. Ignis just shook his head and brought two fingers up to massage his temple. That headache was going to end him. Gladios eyebrow went even higher, this time in concern, but he let it be for now.

“And what did my son say about the parade?” Okay, so maybe they were not done with that topic after all. Ignis mind raced as he searched for an appropriate answer. Truth of the matter was that he had _no_ idea about Noctis stance on the parade. He had wanted to discuss that earlier today, before he had been forcibly excused from his Princes’ chambers. However, he really did not want to bring that up in front of the King, and even less so in the setting of a council meeting, where a scribe would dutifully note down anything he had to say about appropriate behaviour and respecting Noctis’ belongings. 

He also did not want to expose the fact that Noctis probably hadn’t even read through that file yet. So he had few options left. He knew what Noctis was _likely_ to say about the subject, and he would have asked Ignis for input as well, so Ignis could maybe give his own opinion and relate that to Noctis later to have a consistent story with no one else the wiser. However, that would be abuse of his Princes’ trust, which he was not so sure he had right now, regardless. 

He decided that he could not give a meaningful answer and settled for damage control instead. He pretended to search his papers before turning back to the king: “Ah, my apologies, Your Majesty, but it seems I do not have those papers with me. I could get them for you right after the meeting or deliver them personally tomorrow, if you wish. I truly am sorry, that was an oversight on my part.” Better for him to take the fall now and leave Noctis out of it. 

Regis looked at him with an unreadable expression for what seemed like an eternity, before turning his gaze back towards the notes in front of him and making a note on something. 

“Very well, I’ll send for you when I have the time.”

Ignis nodded even though the king was not looking at him. His throat felt suddenly very dry and he was not sure he could speak at the moment. He took another sip out of his rapidly emptying thermos and swore to lay off the caffeine for the next day. It was a better reaction than he had hoped for, but he had just basically lied to his King through omission. How was this day getting worse by the second? At least the Astrals seemed to finally have mercy on him. He could not tell how long the rest of the meeting lasted or what was discussed, and he had to concentrate very hard to at least pretend to be listening, but he did not have to contribute any more, and his headache had apparently reached its peak and stopped intensifying. 

As the King finally dismissed his council, he remained seated for a bit longer to take a few deep breaths before gathering his papers and heading out. Or at least he attempted to head out before the familiar voice of the King stopped him in his tracks.

“Ignis, a word, please.”

Ignis dutifully turned around and stepped towards the King. Gladio passed by him and gave him a pat on the shoulder and a wry smile before leaving Ignis to his fate. 

“Your Majesty.” Ignis could only speculate what this was about, and he kept silent for the moment. Was it about his ‘missing’ papers? Or had Noctis given a formal complaint? Maybe he would be reprimanded for speaking out of turn earlier? Or was it something else entirely? What he did not expect was the very concerned look Regis gave him as the door of the council room closed with a soft click after the other people had filed out. 

“Are you well?” was all he was asked.

“I… Yes, of course I am well, Your Majesty.” Ignis was taken aback and did not know what to say, so he continued without thinking “If this is about my poor performance today I can only offer my sincerest apologies, but I assure you that it will not happen again. I am very sorry for the inconvenience…”

The King lifted a hand to stop him and Ignis trailed off mid-sentence. He waited.

“Please. I admit that it is unusual for you to be anything but perfectly prepared, but to err is only human, and no harm was done. Besides, your input on the subject of the media was appreciated, you made a valid point both Clarus and Fiducia overlooked.”

Ignis felt his face heat up at the unexpected praise, but he knew he did not technically deserve it. 

“Ah, actually, the idea was not my own, but Acutis. He was kind enough to share some notes with me,” he admitted. 

Regis gave a thoughtful nod. “I see. Still, that is not why I am asking.” He paused and looked Ignis over once more. “If I may be so frank, Ignis, you look awful.”

“P-pardon me, Your Majesty?”

“You look like you have not slept in days. I understand that you are trying to help with the preparations however you can, and I am grateful for your dedication and loyalty towards Noctis, but please do not forget to take care of yourself as well. After all, you are his advisor, and if you were to fall ill before the next week even starts, he would have to navigate that particular minefield on his own, which I can say from experience would not be pleasant in the slightest,” the King said and steepled his fingers together.

“If you feel overworked, please do not hesitate to speak to me. I am sure there are many tasks that do not require your immediate attention and could be delegated to someone else if needed. I know that you have taken over cooking for Noctis, for example.”

Ignis stiffened. He admitted that he had a lot to do at the moment, but it was a temporary situation and he could rest after the whole thing blew over. He did not want to give up any of his tasks, especially the mundane ones like cooking or driving Noctis to school. Those counted as hobbies and opportunities to spend time with his friend. And the complicated work like reports and handling information and appointments he _really_ could not entrust to someone else, they would surely only mess up his carefully crafted system. 

“Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty, but I assure you that it is no trouble at all. The preparations for our guests are nearly complete after all, and I dare say that was the worst part. I rather enjoy the cooking, as it were, and whilst I appreciate the offer I’d like to continue with it myself.”

Regis gave another nod. “Very well. I trust your judgement. However, please don’t hesitate to speak with me should you change your mind. As for the report, I will be speaking with Noctis directly tomorrow, so please consider it taken care of.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Regis now stood up and made for the door himself. The conversation seemingly over, Ignis followed at an appropriate distance behind and gave a bow outside the door as they parted ways. Just as he was about to walk off, the King called out once more.

“And Ignis, please see to it that you get some rest tonight!”

Ignis winced as the volume drove daggers into his still pounding head, he was not that far away, after all, no need to shout. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

With that, he made his way to the kitchens to retrieve the now cooled pastries and then headed back up to deliver them to their intended recipient, downing the last of his coffee on the way and immediately wishing he had taken the time to get a refill. He was dead on his feet. He knocked on the door like always, but instead of letting himself in he decided to wait for Noctis to open the door, to give him the option to invite him in. Hopefully. 

It was not that he doubted he would be forgiven, really. He had been by Noctis’ side for over a decade now, and he barely remembered a life where they hadn’t known each other. Noctis had been even younger than him, and Ignis wondered if he remembered the time before at all. And despite the fact that he was supposed to merely serve and advise, they had become friends rather quickly, simply by being in each other’s vicinity, because they had been children and everything had been easier. 

That bond of friendship would not be severed so easily, he knew, but it was a fickle thing nonetheless. Both had to put their duties before themselves, Noctis more than anybody, and if Ignis could not keep up with his share of the burden, he would have to step away as to not hinder his future king. The thought terrified him, frankly, because what else would he even _do_ with his life? There had never been anything else, he had never even had to consider it. And now the King doubted him and Noctis was rightfully angry. He wasn’t even opening the door. 

Ignis knocked again, louder this time, thinking maybe Noctis had fallen asleep (again, not that he could blame him, sleep sounded so wonderful), and after waiting another few seconds he was just about to leave as the door swung open to reveal Noctis standing in the doorway, scrambling to pull a jacket over an evidently hastily put on shirt, but he immediately gave it up as he realized it was him standing there. 

“Iggy! What are you doing here?” he asked with an accusatory frown. “I thought I had forgotten an appointment or something,” he added as he shrugged the jacket back off and headed inside, leaving the door open. Ignis took that as an invitation and stepped in. 

“Apologies for making you put on decent clothing-“ _Nope, sarcasm was not the way to go here, great start Ignis_ “I would have let myself in, I was just… not sure if I would be welcome?” he tried as he followed through the hall into the living room “and, ah, I really just wanted to drop off the latest report and… I also made these for you”, he explained as he set his offerings down on the couch table, which remained the only paper-free surface in the room. 

Noctis plopped himself onto the couch to better inspect the pastries, and he seemed genuinely delighted. “Thanks, those look great. What’s the purple stuff?”

“Blueberries. I blended some for the frosting, but it seems the colour has somehow seeped through. It _does_ look quite interesting though. I just hope it doesn’t affect the taste.”

“One way to find out.” There was a brief pause as neither of them moved. 

“So how was the meeting-“

“Noctis, about before-“

They both started at the same time and immediately stopped again. Suppressing a grin, Noctis motioned for Ignis to continue. 

Ignis tried to gather his thoughts despite his fatigue and his headache, the light mood from just a second ago giving way to a brief but weighted silence. But this was why he had come here in the first place, so he straightened his back. Took a deep breath. 

“I just- I wanted to apologize again. I don’t even know why I did that. And I am truly sorry. I- I don’t even know what to say. And I don’t know what it’s worth, but I promise I will never do something like it again, so…” he trailed off, not knowing how to put his shame and regret into words, his determination to be better and do his Prince, his friend proud. It had been so easy in his head. 

Noctis sighed and smiled at him. “Ignis.” He looked towards his friend, blue, tired eyes with dark circles underneath fixing his gaze before softening with a smile. Ignis thought that Noctis definitely should go to sleep right about now. 

“It’s fine. Really. Forgot it ever happened. So don’t beat yourself up over it, alright?”

“Are you sure, Highness?” He couldn’t believe it would be so easy after the way their argument had ended earlier. 

Noctis rolled his eyes, saying “It’s _fine_ Iggy, we’re all tired here and I don’t wanna fight with anyone here when the literal enemy is coming in less than two days. Besides, I-“, Noctis broke off and averted his gaze, looking at his fidgeting hands, the table, out the window, anywhere but at Ignis, like he didn’t know what to say. “You know what, nevermind.” 

“Alright then. Thank you, Noct.” Normally, this would be where Ignis would start going over his mental to-do lists and ask Noctis about his progress with the days duties, but he was too happy his apology had been accepted, and he did not want to ruin the mood. Besides, Noctis looked tired and Ignis felt frankly exhausted. He put the file he was still holding onto the stack on the desk. 

“I will leave the report here, it’s already summarised. And I believe your father wants to know your opinion on the proceedings of the parade specifically, I marked the relevant passages with the yellow post-its, so be sure to go prepared.”

He turned back to face Noctis “If that is all, I shall leave you to your devices.”

“Thanks, Iggy”, came the mumbled answer, as Noctis was currently chewing on his first pastry. “Hey, these are really good. Not even close to the things from Tenebrae, but different in a good way, y’know?”

“I am glad you like them”, Ignis said and smiled at the compliment. 

“Hey, could you maybe do me a favour and go through that damn report with me? If my Dad’s gonnna quiz me about it, I would like to know what was actually said. I’ll even share these with you!” Noctis shoved the remaining pastries a little towards him. 

Ignis paused just a split second too long before replying “Of course.” He wanted nothing more than to finally go to sleep, but he was just back in Nocts good graces and did not want to risk that again. Besides, what little he remembered of the meeting would surely be gone by tomorrow, and Noctis had a right to as much information as he could possibly offer. It would be him under his fathers’ scrutiny tomorrow, after all. Plus, he had not eaten yet, and at whilst they were far from ideal from a nutritional standpoint, a pastry or two would save him yet another trip to the kitchens. 

Of course Noctis picked up on his hesitation. “You good Specs?”

“Not you too, your Highness”, he sighed. “I am fine, really, just tired. As are you, I am sure.”

“Yea. Wanna go make some coffee while I clear us some space to work?”

“I’m sure we’ll need it.”

Ignis headed for the kitchen and put some water on before getting two of the bigger cups he could find. He glanced over the dishes in the sink and noted the addition of a new plate (at least Noctis had eaten) and a flute for some reason. Ignis really hoped that Noctis had just been in a weird mood to drink out of a fancy glass and that there was not actually a bottle of champagne hidden somewhere. 

He decided to clean up whilst he waited for the water to boil, and as he scraped the untouched vegetables into the trashcan he noticed glass shards that looked suspiciously like the remains of another flute. Curious. He wondered if and how he would bring that up. His thoughts were quickly disrupted as he righted himself back up and the room started spinning. 

He grabbed the edge of the counter and carefully set the plate down, steadying himself with both hands now and taking deep breaths. The spinning stopped, but his vision was blurry, especially when he tried to focus on the patterns on the counter in front of him. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and kept them closed to rest for a moment. It made the headache worse, and without his vision to distract him he could hear his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt much too warm all of a sudden, and Ignis felt like he couldn’t breathe. He desperately tried to loosen his tie a little, but his hands had gone oddly numb and cold and he fumbled with the knot to no avail. He opened his eyes to look at the damned thing, but everything was blurry and swimming. His glasses. Put them back on. His hand was empty. Had he dropped them? He looked down and saw them on the floor. When had he dropped them? Why? He bent down to pick them up. The floor spun. Suddenly, he was on one knee on the floor, one hand on the ground and the other still gripping the edge of the counter. He could not find the glasses. His chest felt tight with unseen pressure. Thinking was hard. His head hurt. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to lay down. Maybe he should go home. Yea, that sounded good. His grasp on the counter slipped and he sat fully on the floor know. The cold from the tiled floor seeped into his legs and made the hot, stuffy air more bearable. His head rested against the side of the counter. Nice and cool too. He closed his eyes and focused on the cold. Just a moment of rest. Two minutes. Then he would go home. So tired. 

His headache had almost subsided into a dull throb when suddenly it flared back up in bursts as his head repeatedly bumped against the counter. Why was that? He opened his eyes, vision still blurry and bright spots dancing. The lights were so intense. It hurt. 

Noctis was in front of him, hands on his shoulders and shaking him. His head lolled with the motion and hit the counter again. Ah, so that was where that came from. He thought Noctis was talking, but it took him a moment to focus on his hearing. 

“Hey. HEY! Iggy, dammit, talk to me! What’s wrong? Iggy? Iggy?! Hey!”

Ignis needed a moment to think about an answer. He did not want to answer, talking seemed exhausting. But he wanted the noise to stop. And the shaking. He put a hand on Noctis, still on his shoulder, and mumbled “Its fine, I am just tired.” Or at least he got to “’S fine” before fatigue hit him like a freight train and he had to draw in a few more exhausting breaths before he could continue. At least Noctis calmed down a little. “’M tired,” he finally managed. 

“Godsdammit Iggy, you’re not fine, this is NOT fine! C’mon, can you get up?”

“dn’t wanna”

“Well you can’t stay on the floor, there’s glass everywhere. Just to the couch. Help me a little, alright?” And with that, he was pulled up, and dragged forward, and the nice cold floor vanished and gave way to too much heat from an arm around his shoulder and Noctis dragging him up and forward and he tried to help he really did but his head hurt and breathing took all his focus and his heart hammered in his chest and everything was bright until it wasn’t his eyes were closed he wanted to sleep and there was something soft and cool underneath him and he was so so so tired and he decided to finally sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words on this story! I felt really motivated and wrote down this whole chapter in one go to satisfy your pleas for more :D Ask and you shall receive my friends^^
> 
> PS Sleep deprivation can be detrimental to your health and coffeine is technically a drug, that last part was written from the firsthand experience of me as a tired person on a 48 hour holiday clinic shift, so please take care guys!


	5. Noctis

After Ignis had gone to the kitchen, Noctis finished is snack in silence and made some space on the table before he sat back down and buried his face in his hands. He had about three minutes to come up with a plan. Why was it so difficult? 

He had mulled over his conversation with Iris the whole evening, and he had to admit that she had a point. It _was_ stupid, and that one argument was _nothing_ compared to what Ignis did for him on a daily basis. So he had made a plan that when Iggy would come in the next day, Noctis would already be up and ready, with some food from the kitchens so they could have breakfast together, and he would apologize for snapping at him earlier and give him the rest of the day off. 

Only that plan had been punched in the gut and kicked out the window when Ignis had shown up completely unexpected, with his own apology, snacks to bribe him and looking truly miserable, and not only from sleep deprivation. The way he had hesitated in the door, as if he was scared Noctis did actually not want to even talk to him had made him feel just… guilty. And sad. 

And then Ignis had apologized formally, stumbling over the words in a way that was very unlike his usual composed self, and Noctis knew that was the perfect opportunity to get his own piece in, that he was not mad at him and could probably never truly be, and that he was grateful to have such a friend and companion in his life. 

What he had managed in the end was a weak ‘Thank you’ that could be interpreted as directed to nothing more than the pastries. Gods, he was pathetic. Why was this so _difficult_? 

It was not unusual for him to give or receive small signs of affection in their group, they did it all the time: High-fives and fistbumps, a pat on the shoulder or the back, ruffling hair, play-fighting over whose turn was it at a videogame, or the four of them trying to squeeze together onto a two-seater couch to watch a movie. He had no qualms about using any of them as a pillow when they had a long drive in the car, but these things all went without the need to actually _say_ something. It was a mutual understanding of friendship and trust, they didn’t need to comment on it. And even if they did, it was mostly done through teasing. Never direct, never serious. 

But as he had thought over whether or not to even say anything earlier, he found he couldn’t deny the fact that Ignis was more reserved in that regard than Prompto or Gladio. Noctis was sure that his friend didn’t mind any of it, but he was more on the receiving end of their antics and rarely ever initiated anything past a friendly shoulderpat himself. And he also knew that whilst he would never ever complain about unwanted attention, he was not always enjoying it, either. That’s just how he was, he just needed his private space to himself sometimes. No, Ignis was a man of words in that regard, and Noctis respected that. And he was determined to let him know how much he was appreciated.

Once he figured out what he actually wanted, what he needed to say to get his point across. He was trained in diplomacy from the age of seven, for the love of the Six, how hard could it be? Apparently harder than he had anticipated, because Ignis seemed to interpret the ‘Thank you’ as a sign he was dismissed and looked like he was about to leave. Crap.

“Hey, could you maybe do me a favour and go through that damn report with me? If my Dad’s gonna quiz me about it, I would like to know what was actually said” he blurted out. And immediately bit his tongue. _Great plan Noct, make him work even more. That’ll show him you care!_ “I’ll even share these with you!” he quickly added and nudged the pastries forward in a feeble attempt at damage control.

“…Of course.” Right, Ignis would never even consider saying ‘no’ to him. Least of all today. Noctis noticed that his friend took a long moment to answer, as if he had to think about forming the words, and he over-enunciated as he spoke. 

“You good, Specs?” He asked with genuine concern, but Ignis looked like the question had been an insult.

“Not you too, your Highness. I am fine, really, just tired. As are you, I am sure”, came the answer with a heavy sigh. Of course Ignis turned that conversation around to be about himself again. And what did he mean ‘Him too?’ Why was everybody saying that today? Was he missing something? 

This was not how he had planned this to go. He needed time to think. And Ignis needed a coffee or something. Noct was almost about to go make some, but he didn’t really like the stuff and he had virtually no idea how the coffeemaker in his kitchen functioned. He had gotten it for Ignis anyway. 

“Yea.” He was tired, no sense in denying it, but he _did_ want to talk. Trying not to be a complete asshole, he phrased his next request in a way that Ignis could turn it down if he wished. “Wanna go make some coffee while I clear us some space to work?”

“I’m sure we’ll need it.” Count on Ignis’ caffeine addiction to save the day. Noctis was determined to not actually work on the report. After the initial important tidbits he would toss the file into the oblivion of his desk drawer, give Ignis the appreciation he deserved together with an apology and grant him a day off for good measure. That would surely get the point across. Right?

Noctis freed his face from his hands. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, but he could no longer hear the water kettle, so the coffee should be almost done. Except that he didn’t hear anything else either, no porcelain clinking or cupboards opening. He listened for footsteps signalling Ignis’ return, but when it stayed _really_ quiet for a while he could not help feeling that something was off. Call it instinct. 

“Specs?” He called out. No reply. “Specs? You still there? Don’t tell me you fell asleep and drowned in the coffee!”

Silence.

He was up before he knew it, his brain going blank for a second and barely catching up with him when he entered the kitchen. Subconsciously he already knew that something was wrong. 

Ignis was on his knees on the floor, one fist balled up into the fabric of his trousers, the other gripping the edge of the counter above him hard enough to make the knuckles show white under his skin. His head leaned against the counter, lolling on his shoulder, his eyes were closed, no glasses, and his breath came oddly shallow. His face was pale, and he looked like he was in pain. Worst of all, he did not even seem to register Noctis’ presence. 

He took all of that in with a single glance, and before he knew it he was kneeling on the floor too, gripping Ignis’ shoulders. “Ignis! What happened?”

No reaction.

“Ignis, you with me? Can you hear me?”

Still nothing. Crap! What was he supposed to do? Calm down, Noctis!  
He took a moment to think. He knew that Ignis could not be truly unconscious, or else he would not be sitting upright, or clutching the counter like his life depended on it. Panicking would not help (not that he was panicking!), and he couldn’t see any obvious injuries. So was it the lack of sleep? But then why did he look like he was hurting? Should he call a doctor?

He tried again, this time gently shaking his friend at the shoulders, trying to get a response.  
“Hey. HEY! Iggy, dammit, talk to me! What’s wrong? Iggy? Iggy?! Hey!” He tried to sound calm, but he knew he missed the mark by miles. But at least his screeching had the desired effect: Ignis’ eyes flutterd open, unfocused at first, before locking with his. There was barely any expression in them, just exhaustion. 

“’S fine” Ignis voice was barely a whisper, and the effort made his eyes fall shut again. He released his death grip on the counter and put the hand on top of Noctis’, probably even now trying to reassure him, the bastard. It did work, a little bit. Noct waited for him to continue speaking, shuffling his legs underneath him to sit a bit more comfortable. Something pricked at his shins through his clothes, and as he looked he could see Ignis glasses on the floor, the frame bent and the glass shattered into tiny shards, like someone stepped on them. The floor was really cold. Probably best to get up soon. 

His attention turned back to Ignis has he drew in a shuddering breath and managed to add “’M tired” to his previous statement. Sleep deprivation then. Or was it? He shifted one hand up towards his friends’ neck to get a pulse. He couldn’t be sure, because he knew that he was maybe kinda sorta indeed panicking, and he did not have a watch to properly count seconds, but the heartbeat he felt was a little slow for his liking. 

“Godsdammit Iggy, you’re not fine, this is NOT fine! C’mon, can you get up?”

“dn’t wanna.” Okay, this was the final proof that something was very, very wrong. Ignis would never say ‘no’ for his own convenience. Noctis shifted around to get a better grip and prayed that he could make it to the living room.

“Well you can’t stay on the floor, there’s glass everywhere. Just to the couch. Help me a little, alright?” In the end, he had to drag Ignis basically by himself, and when he laid him down onto the couch he was already out cold. Sleeping or unconscious? He sat on the floor to catch his breath, and considered calling a doctor again, but maybe he was just that tired, and Ignis would hate him in the morning if he woke up in the hospital for something so ‘trivial’, as he would say. 

Noctis sat up on his haunches and put his fingers around Ignis’ wrist, eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, counting seconds properly this time. He did two takes to be sure, but although the heartbeat underneath his fingertips was slow, it was still enough to be considered normal, especially for someone who was sleeping. His mind kept going in circles, and two times he hovered over Iris’ contact info, but she was just a nurse in training and he wasn’t sure she could do something he couldn’t himself. He also contemplated using a potion, he had some around, but there were no injuries and he didn’t think they worked for something like overexertion. 

After forty minutes had passed and nothing more had happened, he decided to wait until the morning. His adrenaline rush had died down again and he felt the exhaustion of the previous days creeping up on him. He pulled a blanket over Ignis, pulled off his shoes and tie to get him more comfortable, and stuffed another pillow underneath his head. Got up and exchanged them for the one from his bed, grabbing his own blanket in the process. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he set an alarm for the morning and settled to sleep in the armchair. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought ‘Man, if Iggy was this tired all day, it’s no wonder this happened.’

He woke up the next morning to the insistent buzzing of his phone. He turned around to reach for it on his nightstand… And was suddenly wide awake as he dropped onto the floor with all the grace of a drunk baby gazelle. Right. He had slept in the chair. His phone was slowly vibrating itself off the table, and he realized he was being called, since there was no alarm sound. He looked at the clock on the screen, squinting at the bright light. 8:24 it said, right above the name of the caller. _Prompto_. He quickly slid his finger over the green button to accept the call. 

“Dude, it’s the middle of the early morning. What’s up?” He yawned.

“Sorry buddy, didn’t mean to wake you. But erm, thing is, I’m kinda outside Iggys’ door, and no one’s there, and-“

“Oh fuck!” Ignis! He had completely forgotten for a moment! He whirled around in an instant, but Ignis was still sleeping peacefully, breathing deeply and slowly, no comparison to yesterday. He felt the urge to shake him awake, to see if he was alright, but Prompto was still talking in his ear and distracted him for the moment.

“Woa dude, no need to get worked up, I’ll live. It’s just that the nice lady who escorted me here says I can’t just go over to yours without permission, for some reason, and I wanted to ask if you could maybe come get me?”

Prompto was in the Citadel? The public parts were supposed to be closed off for the week, and everyone who wanted to enter needed either a staff ID or a very special permission and an even better reason why it could not wait until the envoys had left. So how’d Prompto get in, and why was he meeting with Ignis? Noctis was very confused. 

“Ah, I’m not really ready to go out. Who’s with you? A Crownsguard?”

“Yep.”

“Can you just hand me over or put me on speaker? I’ll get you permission to come by.”

There was a short rustling through the speaker and a few muffled words as Prompto handed his phone over, before an unfamiliar female voice came through.

“Your Highness, this is Crownsguard Skye speaking. Should I escort Mr. Argentum somewhere?”

“Yes, please. I’m currently in my rooms, so just head on over. And could I speak to Prompto again?”

More rustling, then Prompto was back. “Thanks man, be there in a jiffy!”

“See you then, I’ll have the door unlocked, so let yourself in. And, uh, Ignis is sleeping on the couch, so try to be quiet, please.”

“Figured that’s where he’s hiding. He could have at least sent me a message! Alright, seeya!” The line went dead. Noctis estimated Prompto to arrive in about five minutes, so he tiptoed around the couch towards his room to get dressed and at least attempt to look presentable, despite a rough night on the chair. He felt better than the day before, but if he could he’d go back to sleep in an instant. 

But the meeting with his father was in less than an hour, and he had not even looked at the file Ignis had brought him yesterday. Ignis himself was still sleeping, and Noctis wasn’t sure if he should wake him or not, and now there was also a random Prompto on the way. He suddenly wished he had woken up an hour or two earlier. 

Noctis heard the front door open and voices drifted in from the hallway as Prompto, ever polite, thanked the guards before stepping inside. There was a *thud* as something heavy was set down on the floor, and he quickly poked his head out the bedroom door to motion his friend in. “Pssst, Prompto, over here.”

Promptos face lit up as he spotted him, and Noctis couldn’t help but smile as well. It had only been four days since they’d last seen each other, but it had felt like an eternity. There hadn’t even been time for a round of King’s Knight. 

“Good to see you, man, and thanks for saving me. The guard is going crazy down there, I didn’t even know there _were_ that many!”

“You probably haven’t seen the half of it, it’s insane. I’ll be so glad when this thing is over.” Noctis put some finishing touches to his hair and sat down on the bed, where Prompto had stretched out over the mattress, for the lack of covers or pillows. 

“So, Prompto, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad to see you and all, but why and how exactly are you in the Citadel? And why did I only hear about that after you needed a rescue?”

“Yea, so, about that. Um, Iggy called me yesterday, and I don’t really know the whole story myself, but he invited me to stay for the week, and he said I could crash on his couch so I don’t have to go through security every time, he even got me out of school and shit. But when I asked why, he just said ‘I’m sure you would like to spent time with Noct and he could probably use the moral support’ and I really don’t know what that was supposed to mean” came the explanation. “I just think he has something planned he didn’t tell me, and that makes me really nervous.”

Noctis suspected that maybe this was related to their fight (they were _not_ fighting) from yesterday. And whilst he had been complaining to Iris, like a spoiled brat, Ignis had not only made him pastries despite probably having work to do, he had also somehow managed to get his best friend into the Citadel just so Noctis could have an ally to talk to during hell week. Bless the man. Now he felt even worse for all that had happened. 

“I’m sure Specs just wanted to do me a favour, don’t worry. He, erm, he is… actually not doing so good at the moment, y’know?” That last part came out barely audible, and Prompto sat up and scooched a little closer to hear. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we had a… disagreement? Yesterday? And we both had barely slept, and he came back in the evening to talk over a report, and he went to the kitchen to make us both coffee.”

“You drink coffee?”

“Not the point, Prompto!”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“Anyway, he had been gone for a while, and when he didn’t answer me when I called, I went to check, and he was just sitting on the floor, not responding and looking really bad in general, and I managed to get him to the couch, but he hasn’t woken up since and I don’t know if I should wake him to ask him if he’s okay or if I should let him sleep some more” _What if you can’t wake him up_ came the unbidden tought and he bit his lip before continuing “and I can’t help but feel like it is partly my fault, you know?”

Prompto was staring at him wide-eyed and a little shocked. “Dude, I had no idea! Is he alright?”

“As I said, I don’t know. He probably needed to really sleep, I think, we both were going for almost two days at that point.”

“Why didn’t you wake him then? To check?”

“Oh come on, you know how he is. If it’s really just overexertion, and it’s the most plausible thing, really, he’ll just go back to work. And blame us for not waking him earlier” he huffed.

“Makes sense. But I don’t see why you would blame yourself for what happened?”

Noctis found the loose thread at the hem of his shirt suddenly very fascinating. “Because I basically ordered him to go through that last report with me. He was done for that day, and he could’ve gone to sleep, but I wanted to talk to him. Not about anything important even, so… yea.”

“So he would have had a breakdown in his own kitchen. I personally think it was a good thing he was still here. At least you were there to help him.”

Noctis gave a weary smile. Count on Prompto to find a silver lining in any situation. He was not entirely convinced, but he could see his friend had a point. 

“Yea. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Also, your shirt is inside out.”

Noctis glanced down. “AW COME ON!”

After dressing up properly this time, they both snuck into the kitchen to make some breakfast, or at least they attempted to, because they both briefly froze at the sight of Ignis’ broken glasses on the floor. The man himself was still sleeping, and they had unanimously decided to let him. But the sight of the kitchen made their previous discussion and the events of last night oddly _real_ , and they quietly went to clean up first. One glass was completely shattered and the other cracked, and the frame was bent beyond salvation, but just tossing them felt wrong somehow, so Noctis set them aside before sweeping up the shards. 

Afterwards, Prompto made toast with eggs and bacon, whilst Noctis tried to squeeze some oranges for their juice. It was either more difficult than it looked or he was doing something wrong, because only half of it actually made it into the pitcher, together with chunks of fruit and seeds. 

“Dude, you suck at this!” Prompto said, way too smug.

“I can’t remember asking for your opinion” Noctis shot back, before aiming his orange at Prompto and squeezing it. 

“Dude, what the HELL! No fair! That’s my favourite shirt!”

“And now it smells like citrus. I think that’s an improvement.”

“Well if that is what you think, why don’t you” Prompto grabbed another half orange “try it for yourself?” And the fight was on. They chased each other around the kitchen, each armed with half an orange, trying to get the other in the face.

“Prompto, not the hair, I have to go out in fifteen minutes, please!”

“Should’ve thought about that!”

“I didn’t know this was your plan!”

“YOU started it!”

“What in the Astrals names are you two doing there, if I may ask?” 

They both froze as they looked to the doorway, where a seemingly somewhat confused Ignis had just appeared. He looked better than yesterday, dark circles under the eyes still there, but faded, hair mussed from sleep and clothes slightly wrinkled. His brows were drawn together, eyes squinted the tiniest bit, but Noctis couldn’t tell if that was because of the missing glasses or if it was just his trademark disapproving stare as he looked over the mess in the kitchen. Maybe both.

Not that it mattered at the moment. “Specs! You’re awake!” Noctis had not expected the amount of relief that washed over him at that moment, and he rushed forward to crush his oldest friend in a hug. It clearly came somewhat unexpected, and it took Ignis a moment to give him an awkward pat on the back in return. Noctis drew back for a more thorough examination, looking for any signs that the other was still feeling unwell and finally asking his many questions that had piled up since last night.

“Are you alright? How are you feeling? What happened? Do you need anything? Why did you not _say_ something?”

Ignis seemed a little taken aback at the intensity of the attention that was now on him. “I’m really sorry about what happened, but I am quite alright. It was just a lack of sleep and too much coffee, I think. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Failed at that one, I’m afraid”, he said with a lopsided grin, before getting more serious. “I’m really glad you’re okay. Just… tell me next time if you’re not feeling well, alright? You deserve a break once in a while, you know.”

“Yea, besides, if you’re not taking care of yourself, how can we expect you to care for Noct here? Dude doesn’t even know how to properly use an orange press! He’d be dead within the week!” Prompto chimed in, trying to lighten the mood again. 

“Hey, not true! I got half a glass already!”

“After massacring four oranges. I rest my case.” With that, the tension dissolved completely, and Prompto returned his attention to their breakfast while Ignis gently but firmly shoved Noctis away from the oranges. “Please, allow me.” Noctis did not protest. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you, Prompto. I promise I did not forget you, but I was rather indisposed, I’m sure Noctis has told you.”

“It’s fine, really, I managed. Am here after all, right?”

“Yea, why _is_ Prompto in the Citadel, Ignis? He told me you called him in yesterday, but we don’t know why. You scheming something?”

“Nothing of the sort. I merely thought we could all use his endless positivity and cheer in the days to come. Astrals know the ambassadors won’t make for easy conversation. Are those my glasses?” Ignis had spotted the remains and examined the frame and the missing lens. 

“Yea, sorry about those. I think you stepped on them or something?”

“Don’t worry, I have a spare in my quarters.” _Of course you have_ Noctis thought. 

“And I don’t mean to alarm you Noctis, but shouldn’t you be meeting with your father right about now?”

Noctis glanced at the clock. “In ten minutes, it’s fine.”

“You think you can get to your father’s office in ten minutes? Impressive.”

“Office?” Noctis croaked. “Not his rooms?”

“No. Office.”

“OhmygodsIamlateokaybyeseeyoulater” Noctis took one last bite of his toast, grabbed the file from yesterday and dashed to the door. “Oh, and Ignis?” He shouted back as he put on his shoes, “You are taking this day off and that is not up for discussion. Prompto, I’m counting on you to keep an eye. Seeya!”

He took off and thankfully made it to his fathers’ office just in time. It was just the two of them, going over the finer details of their respective positions. As he was asked about his opinions regarding yesterdays meeting, Noctis admitted that he had not read the report and quickly recapped the events of the evening once more. To his surprise, his father seemed to be somewhat aware of Ignis’ condition. 

“I talked to him after the meeting yesterday about his workload, but he assured me he had it all under control. I am glad he is so dedicated to his work, but I would rather avoid him having a burnout.”

“You talked with him? He didn’t mention it.”

“It was nothing important really, I merely proposed that he maybe get an assistant or delegates his easier tasks to someone else.”

Noctis shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He didn’t particularly like the idea of having yet another person around all the time, especially someone he didn’t know. Ignis was okay, he didn’t have to pretend around him, but most people saw the prince before they saw Noctis, and he felt like he had to constantly uphold an image around them lest they be disappointed by his _normalness_. But if Ignis was really that overworked… 

“I’ll think about it, but I’m sure he’ll want to hear nothing of it.”

“You do that. And I’m sure it will be fine, he is not the type to not listen to reason, after all. Now,” his father slipped back into King-mode, “I understand you have not read the full report, but we need to talk at least about the gala party. I appreciate the ball room as much as any other person, but the layout makes it difficult to station our security in a way that covers the whole area, unless we have them stand in the middle of the dancefloor, and I doubt our guests would take that well. That means however that we need to be aware of our own positioning at all times. I believe there is a floor plan in the notes.”

Noctis internally despaired at the thought of having to learn that by heart as well in less than 24 hours. He opened the folder and flipped through Ignis’ post-its until he found the map and the accompanying notes. There were scribbles in an almost illegible handwriting that was definitely not his advisors _everywhere_ , and the map was dotted with coloured markings. 

“Looks like young Mr. Scientia had a field day with that one” his father commented. 

“I actually don’t think he did that, it’s not his handwriting.” Noctis tried to decipher one of the scribbles. “'Suit and tie standard for both genders in Niflheim, useful for Crownsguard?' What does that even mean? Or here, ‘Servants generally not paid attention to, could get away with using recruits'.” 

His father leaned forward to get a look at the notes as well. “Ah, I believe this could be the handwriting of Mr. Acutis. Now that I think about it, Ignis did mention they had exchanged notes.”

“Acutis? Who’s that?” The name sounded somewhat familiar, but he could not place it.

“Clovis Acutis is the secretary to Mr. Fiducia.” Noctis stared blankly, and his father continued with a description “Young man around thirty, brown hair. Fiducia praises his skill with tea.”

Now it finally clicked “Ohhh, you mean the bartender guy with the weird ponytail? Yea, I’ve seen him in the kitchens with Iggy once or twice.”

His father tried to disguise his laugh as a cough. “Yes, the ‘bartender guy’. I would not call him that to his face, I appreciate him more as a logistically skilled person. I might promote him as the next minister of security, should Fiducia indeed retire next year.”

“Seems like he takes his job seriously, at least” Noctis said with another look at the files. There were comments everywhere, some sarcastic opinions or criticism, others referring to finances or staff plans, and a lot of indecipherable abbreviations and color-coded references. It was a mess. 

“He does, although he has a tendency to disagree with his boss. It makes for quite the entertainment, occasionally. But we were discussing the plans for tomorrow…”

They went over their roles for the coming day, and Noctis left an hour later with two new pages of tightly scribbled notes about position and protocol for the welcoming speeches and the parade, and some well-wishes from his father to Ignis. He hoped he would not embarrass himself in front of three countries tomorrow. At least Prompto was here, and they could have their own little party once the gala was over. He was actually looking forward to it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently my little goblin brain craved the keyboard click-clacks today. No beta this time because I didn't expect to get this done so fast, we die like real men. The next updates are planned for the 21st, but the next chapters are going to be the difficult ones to write, so maybe it'll stay at one for that week. Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this one got a little out of hand and is basically 2 chapters in one, but I didn't feel like breaking it up so have a treat I guess.

It took him an unusually long time to wake up. He considered himself a light sleeper, so to be this deeply unconscious wasn’t something he was used to. Not that it was unpleasant, spending an unknown amount of time in deep nothingness. He felt like the rest had permeated his very core, and as he drifted back to the surface, he hung there in that little space between dreaming and waking and just _was_ , his senses sharpening gradually as he became aware of his surroundings. 

The ceiling looked unfamiliar, so he wasn’t in his bed. The sun was creeping into the room from somewhere behind him, and he could hear voices nearby. For a moment he felt eerily disconnected, before he finally made the conscious effort to sit up and start thinking. 

He was in Noctis living room, on the couch to be precise, and judging from the angle of the sunlight it was sometime mid-morning. He was still dressed in his formalwear, although now slightly dishevelled and missing tie and shoes. A blanket had been draped over him, and a second one was crumpled over the armchair to his left. 

His mind briefly conjured an image of a dark room, barely lit by the pillar of purple light above the Citadel outside, in which Noctis had been curled up and asleep in that very spot. He couldn’t tell if it had been a dream or reality. 

Now that he knew where he was, the questions of ‘When’ and ‘Why’ remained. It took him a moment to sort his thoughts, but he had a pretty direct view of the desk across the room and those paperstacks would have haunted his dreams had he had any. The envoys. Arriving tomorrow morning, if he was correct. He felt a certain uneasiness at that revelation, and he couldn’t help but think he was supposed to be somewhere else, to be doing something important. 

But he also felt strangely content not thinking too hard about that, and so he let it go for the moment. The voices had grown louder in the meantime, it seemed like Prompto and Noctis where arguing in the kitchen.

The kitchen. Right. Slowly, the events of last night came back to him, but they felt oddly distant and vague, like he was trying to remember a dream that was already slipping. The day before was somewhat clear until the middle of the meeting, and then it was more feelings and snapshot moments instead of coherent memories. 

He decided to sort through that later and instead find out what was going on in the kitchen right now, and he found Prompto and Noctis fighting each other with… oranges? 

He really didn’t want to know, but he had to ask anyway. “What in the Astrals names are you two doing there, if I may ask?”

They looked at him like he was a ghost, and Noctis almost knocked him over with a hug before assaulting him with way too many questions. Whilst it was good to know that his misstep from the previous day was apparently completely forgotten, he wasn’t too sure of what was actually going on. 

He calmed his friends as best he could, after all he felt indeed better than he had in days. Prompto was very understanding, not that he had expected anything else. They had apparently been in the process of making breakfast, and Ignis stepped into the kitchen proper as well to try and save what he could. 

It was then that he spotted his missing glasses, and more of the previous evening came back to him in a rush, the vague notions and images forming into semi-coherent events. He remembered feeling tired and sick, his head hurting and breathing taking all his effort whilst his hearing and sight slowly abandoned him, and the sudden, primal fear he had felt, knowing something was wrong before succumbing to exhaustion and indifference. The way his thoughts had scattered into incoherent bits and pieces. He believed Noctis had been there too, but that was where the memories became fuzzy once more. 

The thought of it made him feel uneasy, and he was suddenly very grateful that it hadn’t happened in his own rooms, alone, or worse, in a hallway or the meeting. He was at once very self-aware, checking internally for any signs that he would pass out again, but he felt perfectly normal, just a little tired still, and also getting really hungry since he’d had no dinner the day before. But that he could deal with. 

He pushed it aside again as he remembered that Noctis should probably be somewhere else by this time. If the plans hadn’t changed whilst he was indisposed, there was a meeting with the King in his public office. So he reminded Noctis gently of the appointment, who then rushed out at frankly impressive speed. As he dashed out the door, he shouted back that Ignis was to take the day off, and assigned poor Prompto as his guard. 

They both looked at each other for a moment, before Prompto announced with exaggerated determination “I _will_ make sure you take that break today, so don’t even think about it!” Ignis just raised an eyebrow in amusement. 

“I see. I promise I will keep to the non-exhausting tasks.” He could not just abandon everything, but he really did not care to repeat yesterday’s experience. It had been quite the frightening sensation, after all, so he would try to take it slow today. Next week he could allow himself to be selfish and rest. 

But Prompto surprised him again. “Nu-uh, no way, not happening. Noctis said I am responsible, and I know you can be scary, but Noct can be even scarier, so I am taking my chances with you, buddy. If I need to, I will lock you in an empty room or die trying!”

“You are aware that I have a six-year advantage in combat practice and could probably take you on without needing to summon a weapon?” Ignis asked back with a smile. It was just banter at this point, but he was curious to see what ridiculous plans Prompto could come up with. 

“And I respect you for not doing so! But _Gladio_ can take you…”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I won’t hesitate if it comes to it.” Now Ignis knew he had to concede. Gladio would not only win in a fight (at least in his current state), he would also enjoy it way too much after Ignis hadn’t been to training, and he would gloat about it all the while. Better to do as he was told and at least save his pride. 

“Alright, I yield.” Prompto let out a barely audible _’Aw yes’_ , celebrating his victory. “Am I at least allowed to make new breakfast? I’d rather avoid food poisoning.”

Prompto grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. In his fight with Noctis, they had knocked several things over, and forgotten the eggs in the pan, which were sizzling black lumps by now. “I guess that would be best. But I’ll do the dishes!”

“Certainly. Thank you.” They started to work mostly in silence, and after eating, Ignis left Prompto to clean up as he returned to his own chambers to take a quick shower, change into something more comfortable and retrieve his spare glasses. 

When he returned, letting himself in again this time, Noctis was already back. He was reading one of the files to Prompto, or at least attempted to, because the both of them were shaking with laughter for some reason and could barely string together a coherent sentence. Gladiolus had also arrived, and was sitting on the armchair, face in one hand in exasperation, trying to supress a grin. 

As Ignis sat down across from him, he asked “Care to fill me in?”

Gladio groaned. “They started reading the ambassadors profiles and now they are making fun of the weird names.”

“This might take a while then.”

“You tell me, they’ve been at it for a while and it’s still getting worse.” Gladio sat up straighter, eying him up and down. “Heard you had an episode yesterday. You looked like shit at the meeting, but damn, I didn’t expect you of all people to give out on us like this. You good?”

Ignis wondered how often he would have to answer that question today. Maybe he should get a shirt printed. “I’m quite alright, thank you. Turns out replacing sleep with a dozen cups of coffee is rather ill-advised. I can’t say I’d recommend it,” he explained with a sigh. 

“Still, nothing sleep can’t fix, and his Highness has very clearly stated that I will not be working today, so I guess that’s that.” Now it was his turn to eye Gladio in suspicion. “You wouldn’t happen to be here to play babysitter as well?”

“Nah, I declined that offer, thank you. I’m here to go over the guard shifts for tomorrow with our Princess over there.” Gladio pointed a thumb over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes towards the other two, who had collapsed on the ground from laughter. “If we could get started, that is,” he added, slightly louder. 

“I’m- ahaha, yea, one second, I’m- gimme a moment, ha-, I’m here.” I took another ten minutes before they could actually start a meaningful conversation, and whenever Gladio mentioned the name of an ambassador there was a fifty percent chance it would send Prompto and Noctis into a new giggle fit, until Ignis and Gladio were trying to hide their grins as well in an attempt to stay somewhat professional. 

Then Noctis finally pulled up his map of the ball room, and Prompto gave an impressed whistle and commented, “Wow, Noct, what happened to that one? Did you give Iggy a pack of crayons and told him to go to town? And why does it say here ‘If Clarus wants more people he can fight Fiducia for the funding?’” Apparently that was the last straw for Gladio, who started full-on laughing as well.

“Can you imagine my dad decking the old geezer in a trial by combat?” he wheezed. 

“Seriously Iggy, why’d you write that? What’d he _do_ to you?” Prompto got out, gasping for air. 

Before Ignis could start to explain, Noctis piped up. “Actually my dad said that file belongs to A- what’s his name? Arcis? The weird ponytail-bartender guy from the kitchens?” He looked at Ignis for confirmation, who couldn’t help but finally join in the laughter as he heard Acutis described as ‘the weird ponytail-bartender’.

He tried to calm himself enough to speak. “Acutis is his name, Clovis Acutis. And yes, he was kind enough to share the file with me. Saved me some work.”

“It’s actually hilarious,” Noctis continued, “he roasted half the cabinet in this file alone. I just wish he’d have a more legible handwriting; I can’t decipher most of it.”

“Do you want me to have a look at it, Noct? Maybe I can help,” Ignis offered without much thinking and reached for the papers, only to have Noctis lean away from him as much as possible, holding the file out behind him. 

“Oh no, no way Iggy. You are on vacation. I’ll ask the guy himself if I need to know.”

“What, you’re just going to abduct Fiducias secretary? I can’t imagine he’ll agree to that.” It was intended as a joke, but the way Noctis cocked his head and stared into space for a moment, thinking, made Ignis feel like he was about to witness one of his princes’ trademark-awful-plans. 

“I’m the Prince, I do what I want. Say, Ignis, that Acutis guy is a friend of yours, right?” So there was an idea forming here. Ignis wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Something along those lines, yes,” he offered tentatively.

“And you get along and stuff? I know you hang out in the kitchens, but you also share notes?”

“Yes, but the note-sharing was a first. And I would never give away confidential information.” 

Noctis dismissed that last statement with a handwave. “I know, that’s not the point. See, Ignis-“ Noctis shifted back into a proper sitting position and became suddenly more serious, “look, I know you are not going to like this, and you have to believe me when I say I don’t either, but there is no denying the fact that you have been overworking yourself lately.”

Oh, Ignis was not liking the direction this was taking _at all_. Yet he dared not interrupt.

“And my dad actually said that he had been talking to you about maybe getting some assistance.”

“I assure you, Noctis, that is entirely unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of handling my tasks on my own.” Ignis tried to sound calm and professional, but he felt… dread? Something similar, at least.

Noctis snorted “Yea, and you totally didn’t break down in the kitchen yesterday and slept for almost twelve hours straight.”

Twelve hours? “A result of unfortunate circumstances. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right it won’t, because I _am_ sending you on a vacation after this week is over. I am not risking your health for some stupid reports!”

“But Noctis, I-“ Ignis tried to protest, but that was a mistake, as Noctis now summoned all his authority as the crown prince. Even Gladio and Prompto shrank back a little at the sudden display of confidence and determination. It was a subtle change, but he knew any further objection was futile. 

“You _will_ take that time off! If I could, I would send you right now, but I also won’t survive the week without you, so unfortunately it’ll have to wait. But that’s not what I wanted to propose.” He sat back a little again, his normal self once more. 

“I know you hate giving your tasks to other people. But if you and that Acutis guy are friends, and you share notes and stuff, don’t you think you could trust him with some of the simple things, at least? My dad thinks he’s alright as well. So, I thought, why not let him help out during hell week, you know, you can take the time to show him around, and then you can take your vacation in peace. I’ll even shorten it to seven days.”

Most other people would not have been swayed by having their vacation _shortened_ , but the mere thought of doing nothing for two weeks had Ignis dying of boredom. And it was true, of all the people in the Citadel, Acutis was one of the more capable. Certainly better than someone random. 

And as much as it pained him to admit weakness on his part, the breakdown had been frightening, and he couldn’t help but feel scared at the thought of repeating the experience. So he considered the offer.

Gladio and Prompto had been holding back on the conversation, but as he exchanged a look with each of them he could see that they agreed with Noctis, pleading him to take the break. He felt touched they cared so much. If it just hadn’t been such embarrassing circumstances. Still…

“Well, I can see that arguing would be pointless-“ three people nodded at him, “but please don’t forget that Acutis has a job of his own, one that he is rather fond of, if I might add. I know he is very devoted to King and Country, and he won’t say no if you ask him personally, but I would feel rather bad should that favour cost him his position once I resume my duties.”

Noctis seemed to at least acknowledge that concern, although he didn’t seem to be deterred. 

“Besides, Acutis’ current tasks rather differ from mine in more ways than one. He spends most of his time at his desk and he doesn’t have to cater to anybody but himself. I believe he does not even have family within the city. I don’t deny that he is capable, I just don’t know if he is the type for the kind of work you want him to do.” He couldn’t imagine Acutis and Noctis getting along. He didn’t want to, really.

Noctis seemed to care little about that as well. “Well, why don’t we have him try out?” he asked.

“Try… out?” Ignis blinked in surprise. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. 

“Yea, you are not allowed to work today anyway, so why don’t we have him come by and help me with the report, to see if it would work? He wrote the thing, after all. It’s actually a great excuse, we don’t even have to tell him it’s a test! And if I don’t like him, I can just send him off again, no harm done. Plus, you can start making plans to hang out together during your off-time, I’ll make sure to schedule my training with Gladio around it so you can do something without us. It’s a win-win!”

This situation felt like anything _but_ a win to Ignis, but he was fighting a lost cause. Having Acutis help out for a week shouldn’t be too bad, they were friends after all. So why did he feel so miserable at the thought of his friend taking over Ignis’ duties for Noctis? The man was efficient, trustworthy and clever, plus he knew already more about the job than anybody else aside from Noctis and the King, from the times they had talked about their work. 

He had no reason to decline, none that he could put into words anyway. “I suppose it can’t hurt,” he quietly agreed. 

“Great. Can you give him a call? See if he’s available?”

Ignis took out his phone, opened his contacts, and immediately paused. Acutis’ name would have been very near the top of the list, but apparently they had never exchanged their contact information. He could have sworn with how many numbers he had saved over the years, Acutis would have been among them. 

Yet a brief search for his first name turned up nothing as well, and Ignis did not save people under weird nicknames like the rest of his group. 

“I… actually don’t think I have his phone number,” he admitted. It earned him several questioning looks. 

“Thought that guy was a buddy of yours?” Gladio inquired.

“He is, sort of. I suppose we run into each other often enough anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. We are both quite busy people, after all.”

“And how are we gonna get a hold of him now?” Prompto asked.

Ignis thought about that. This week was rather unusual, and most routines had been interrupted, but since Fiducia hardly ever got into his office before noon, Acutis was usually either in the kitchen or in the greenhouse at this time, tending to his tea plants. ‘Usually’ being the keyword. Ignis had also a vague idea about the location of his room, but he wasn’t sure and he’d rather leave that option as a last resort. 

It would be embarrassing, asking around the staff quarters for the rooms of his friend of four years. He’d prefer to avoid the humiliation. Acutis would never let him hear the end of it. He’d just take his chances and try the kitchens. Acutis had been trying to create a new tea blend yesterday, and if he indeed wanted to serve it to guests, he would probably be working on that some more. 

“He is either in the kitchens or in the greenhouse, unless he is doing overtime as well, although I doubt it. I’ll see if I can find him.” He started to get up. “Does anybody want something to eat whilst I am down there?” 

“No, no work includes no cooking!”

“Shall I starve, then?”

Noctis huffed and Gladio laughed at him. “Prompto, you go with him and make sure he doesn’t sneak off to some secret stash of paperwork. And get your bag out of my hallway while you’re at it! I nearly broke my neck when I ran out earlier!”

“Hey man, not my fault you can’t keep your appointments.”

With that, they left Gladio and Noctis to their planning and headed for the kitchens once more, after a slight detour to get Promptos luggage out of the way. They chatted about nothing really, and Prompto only stopped twice to get a picture of some cats that sat outside on a windowsill. 

As they arrived in the kitchens, which seemed to be even busier than the day before, however _that_ was possible, Ignis was relieved to see that his hunch had not failed him. Acutis was indeed there, workstation again overflowing with an impossible amount of ingredients.

Prompto trailed behind him as he approached. Ignis raised his voice over the din in the kitchen. “Acutis! Fancy seeing you down here. Don’t you have work to do?”

The other turned around with a smile. “Scientia. I could say the same to you.” He paused and gave him a onceover. “You look better than yesterday, at least. And you must be Prompto Argentum. Pleasure to meet you, my name is Clovis Acutis. Scientia told me about you.”

Prompto nodded, a bit overwhelmed, “Oh, um has he? I mean, I’ve heard about you as well, so, um, nice to meetya!”

Ignis stepped quickly in to Promptos rescue. “Work is actually precisely why I came looking for you. His Highness has been reading your report from yesterday, and I must admit, we are all rather curious about the notes you left in there. So he sent me to retrieve you and shed some light on that.”

Acutis went from surprise to shock and then something like intimidated pride as he spoke. “You actually gave that to the Prince? I thought that was for you alone,” he finally managed. “If I had known that… Oh Astrals, I have some notes in there that were _not_ meant to be seen by him.”

“Do you mean the curses or the slander of our cabinet?” Ignis asked with a smirk. “I assure you they have provided nothing but entertainment.”

Acutis relaxed at that and quickly collected himself (and his ingredients). Ignis had always found it funny that Acutis’ bag was filled with fifty percent paper and fifty percent dried leaves, but unattended ingredients were fair game down here, and some of it was really expensive. 

“Glad to be of service. But if His Highness truly wants to talk to the lowly likes of myself, we shouldn’t keep him waiting, right?” It was said in jest, but Ignis thought that he looked a tad nervous at the prospect.

He tried to give a reassuring smile. “Indeed. Shall we?” He made his way back in mostly silence. Prompto and Acutis chatted behind him, exchanging pleasantries. Truth was that the trek from the kitchens (ground floor and basement) to the royal chambers (15th floor and across half the building) was somehow more taxing than he remembered. 

Gladio and Noctis eyed them with open curiosity as they entered. Prompto immediately claimed a spot on the couch and got his phone out. Acutis stayed standing in the middle of the room and gave a formal bow and introduction. “Your Highness, my name is Clovis Acutis. You called for me?”

Noctis gave him a way less formal nod. “Yea, we were curious about that report of yours. Think you could go over that with me?”

Acutis looked between Noctis and Ignis. “Certainly, Your Highness – but did Scientia not do that already? I must admit I am at a loss as to why you would need my input…?”

They all tried to be subtle, but Ignis noticed the eyes on him. He had not mentioned his breakdown to Acutis yet, and he would prefer not to. If Acutis would indeed take over, he would stick to a basic outline of events. 

Thankfully, Noctis seemed to wordlessly agree on that topic. “I am really just curious about that map you drew there, for example. The ball room is one of our main problems, after all.” Acutis agreed, and took a hesitant step towards them, to get a look at the papers. 

“Well, Your Highness, that was just an idea on my part. You are aware that we are posting the guards along the walls of the room, but that leaves a large open space in the middle, and if you were to stand here,” he pointed to a spot slightly below the centre of the room, “you would be seventeen meters from your nearest guard.” 

Everyone nodded, that was one of the main concerns they all shared. “But, I thought, what if we can position some security undercover? My first thought was to have some guards assume the positions of the waiters. That would close some of the gaps, but the problem of the dancefloor remains.”

Gladio gave a thoughtful nod at that. “The idea with the waiters is not that bad. Why’d you not mention it yesterday? We would’ve had time to get that sorted.”

“For the same reason I didn’t mention my other thought. Forgive me if I am misjudging, Mr. Amicitia-“

“Gladio ’s fine.”

“Gladio then. I would offer you to call me Clovis in return, but no one really does that, and I can’t guarantee I’ll react to it at this point”, he chuckled. “Anyway, I assumed that if I brought up the idea that Cor Leonis would tell his better guards to get into nice suits and have them serve canapées to our guests, there would have been an uprising. And if they found out it was _me_ to whom they owe that ‘honor’, I would have to fear for my life.”

“That’s fair.” Noctis gave Gladio an amused look, and Ignis also couldn’t help but grin at the idea of their friend handing champagne to some partygoers. “What’s that other idea?” Noctis asked. Seemed like his curiosity was piqued. 

Acutis shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. “That one _will_ cost me my head if it comes out.”

“I assure you, we can keep a secret,” Ignis promised. He wanted to know as well. 

“The base idea is similar. You know that the ambassador groups consist of mostly men, right? And there is a gala party planned. So I thought ‘What if we have our female Crownsguard mingle with the guests under the pretense of providing conversational and dance partners?’ Formalwear in Niflheim allows suits for both genders, so they would not be hindered by dresses. Plus, combat abilities and a high ranking in the guard comes with prestige in our country, and vice versa,” he motioned to Gladiolus, whose family had been in service of the crown for a long time and was known almost as well as the family of Lucis, “so it would not even be a stretch to present them as members of the higher society.”

They all looked at Acutis with a mixture of awe and incredulity. The man was so embarrassed that his ears turned red, and he quickly added, “You see why I did not mention that, Your Highness, it does sound incredibly sexist and I have not found a way to phrase it so it doesn’t, and I really would like to avoid angering our esteemed guards. I am not a fighter, and if they ever find out that plan was mine, I will be a very dead man. At best.”

“I… see that,” Noctis finally managed. “I have to admit that did not even occur to me, but I really can’t deny that there’s something to the plan. I just… wouldn’t know how to propose _that_ either.”

“Still, if it’s for the sake of your safety, don’t ya think they’d do it? From what I have seen they are all very kind ladies, I am sure they would understand?” Prompto was the last person Ignis would have expected to chime in. 

“I think there is some truth in that” Gladio pondered. After a brief moment of silence Noctis turned towards his advisor. 

“Iggy, I know I said ‘No work today’ earlier, but you are really our guy for this kind of thing. Could you phrase that proposal in a way that it would at least avoid a revolt from the guards? Let Acutis help.”

“I can certainly try. But first, would anyone care for a cup of coffee? I think we might be here for a while, after all.”

“You sure coffee is a good idea?”

He paused. If he had counted properly, he’d had 14 cups yesterday. “Maybe not for me, then. Still, Gladio, Acutis?”

Acutis had been following that exchange with a curious look. “Normally that’s my job, you know? Why’d you decide to go sober all of a sudden?”

“No reason. I overdid it a little yesterday.” He waved his friend to follow. Back to their usual banter, they went into the kitchen. Acutis gave an impressed whistle as he spotted the coffee machine. 

“Shame really, I would have liked to see that thing in action.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Are you sure…? His Highness called me for work, I can’t just run around his kitchen …”

“I really doubt Noctis knows how to use it. He rarely drinks coffee anyway; he prefers energy drinks. I’m fairly certain he got it only to do me a favour in the first place.” Ignis didn’t _mean_ to sound like he was bragging, but he didn’t care to remedy it, either.

Acutis was too distracted examining the device anyway, checking water and beans. “In that case I’ll take you up on the offer. I’ll make some tea too, preferences?”

“If it’s not too much work, I think that blend from yesterday would do fine.”

Ignis put on the water, and when they returned with coffee and a large pot of tea, they sat down to work. In theory it was a good plan, and it would close the largest gap in security they had, but phrasing it was really a challenge. 

Prompto’s job was providing snacks to pair with the teas Acutis had them try. The bitterness was barely detectable, and Noctis and Prompto approved it with enthusiasm. He also provided a blend of green tea after they had emptied the first batch, and Ignis had to silently admit that it was better than anything he could come up with.

Gladio helped with his knowledge of the guards themselves, proposing names, and Noctis knew about the particular concerns of the king. Acutis was still a little tense and slightly too formal, but he elaborated on his ideas whilst Ignis wrote them down in a more polished version.

The work had him quickly focusing onto paper and ink, and he remained mostly quiet, trying to drown out the sounds of chatter in the background whilst still being aware enough to catch the important bits. He felt a slight headache emerging after a while. It was nothing compared to yesterday, but it made him more sluggish and his perception went a little fuzzy around the edges.

It was similar to the feeling he had after the occasional glass of wine, but without a good reason for it, he felt like he was really losing his edge. It frustrated him to no end, being unable to focus on some stupid paper for more than thirty minutes. 

He was completely sure that he was fine today, but just in case he decided to get some water. As he stood, he swayed a little, and to his infinite dismay Noctis of course caught on.

“Are you okay Iggy?” came the question immediately. It was a little over the top, even if he appreciated the sentiment. 

“Of course, why would I not be?” It came out sharper than he intended, and Acutis was watching with equal parts confusion and curiosity, although he tried to appear unfazed. 

Really, if Noctis continued like this, the whole citadel would know about the incident by dinnertime. He walked off without further comment, and if his shoulder hadn’t collided painfully with the doorframe on the way out for some reason, he’d been fine, he was sure of it. 

But just has he righted himself, rubbing the ache and hoping it wouldn’t bruise, Gladio was suddenly next to him and practically dragged him to the armchair. Noctis was chewing on his lip with a guilty expression, saying “I’m really sorry, Iggy, I shouldn’t have made you work today, are you alright? Do you need something?”

They were really trying his patience. “Oh for the love of the gods would you guys stop it? I am _fine_! I misstepped, is all. It happens”, he growled. 

The looks they gave him ranged from unconvinced (Gladio) to concerned (Noctis and Prompto) and finally outright confused (Acutis). The latter spoke up first. “Is this about you overworking yourself again? Because I swear I will cut off the coffee supply if it is, you mark my words, Scientia.”

Dammit. He knew Acutis was sharp, but it was again and again surprising just how good he was at reading people and social situations. His friend was spot on, and so he decided to explain. 

Ignis took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he retold the events of the previous night _yet again_ , albeit with minimum details and more reassurances that it was not going to happen again. But with Acutis joining them, the others outnumbered him four to one, and he was excused (not to say forbidden) from contributing anything more save the occasional comment or advice. 

In the end, it took them almost two hours, but they were satisfied with the result. Acutis excused himself, saying he had work to do, and Gladio followed him out to present their draft to Clarus. 

Prompto scooched up beside him. “Hey man, how you feeling? Any better?”

“If I have to repeat myself one more time saying ‘I’m fine’, I will break something.” His patience had worn thin, being asked the same thing over and over. If they were not going to believe him, they could at least say so. 

“Alright, alright. You know,” Prompto shuffled a little, “I think we all would appreciate it if you’d go and have a Doctor check up on you. Not that I’m trying to patronize you!” Prompto quickly raised his hands in defence before Ignis could vocalize his protest, “it’s just for reassurance, really. And hey, what if you’ve caught a bug or something? Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

Noctis had followed the exchange and quietly nodded along. “Can’t hurt to be sure. And I’ll promise I’ll stop bothering you, if you have the all clear!”

Ignis didn’t want to concede, it would be admitting a loss, although he hadn’t known he was fighting a battle here. But if he really _had_ caught something, it would be better to know sooner rather than later. It would also explain a lot, and he could shift the blame for his breakdown to it. Have the topics of burnout and assistance off the table. Besides, it could potentially be infectious, and risking to pass an illness onto Noct if he could avoid it would be nothing short of negligence. 

And that was how he found himself sitting in the ER laboratory, chatting amicably with Iris after a routine check-up and waiting for the results of the standard blood tests, hoping he would not run into that frightening head doctor again. He had been privy to witnessing one of her lectures from the side-lines before, and he had immediately decided that he would do best to respectfully avoid that woman. 

His results came back perfectly normal, and he was recommended nothing more than a day of rest before being cleared for duty again. With the reassurance came confidence in his abilities once more, and after sending Noctis a text that translated into a smug ‘I told you so’, he took his day off as an opportunity to run some errands for himself (like ordering a new set of spare glasses), then cleaned up his apartment and readied the guest room for Prompto. The envoys would arrive the next day, and he took it as an excuse to turn in early. 

As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that he would not have to surrender his duties after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later during the briefing of the guards: 
> 
> "So you want us to dress up, drink chamapgne, eat expensive snacks and play dumb and pretty in front of the ambassadors?"
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "Do we get to step on their feet when dancing?"
> 
> "No more than three times each, please."
> 
> "And we'll be paid for it?"
> 
> "Certainly."
> 
> "Hell yes!"
> 
> ______________  
> So the next chapter is almost done, should I post it on sunday or would you rather have a guaranteed upload next week?


	7. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of the weekend prepped and ready. Enjoy your read ^^ And before anybody starts plotting my demise, I promise the next one will be out on the 28th the latest and sooner if I can manage university.

If he was completely honest, Noctis wasn’t sure what to make of Clovis Acutis. Granted, his idea was not bad at all, although somewhat outside the box, and he worked it into a written draft just fine, after he had been encouraged to do so. 

He was nice enough as well. There was of course the usual formal stiffness people had around him, he was used to that, but he kept making small talk with the others, and after they read (and laughed) through some of his more questionable notes he started to loosen up. His sense of humour was not unlike Ignis’, sarcasm and wordplays that went either mostly over his head or were painfully bad. 

Noctis could tell that he was sharp-witted and attentive, he provided tea for all of them without asking, knew when to speak and when to be silent, and immediately had Ignis figured out when he ran into the doorframe. 

Their relationship seemed a little weird to him. He had seen the two hanging out in the kitchens before, and occasionally Ignis mentioned him, or rather something he had said, if it could be considered relevant information to a discussion. They talked in a way that showed they were familiar with each other, having quite a few inside jokes he didn’t grasp, but they were also on a last name basis, which he thought was a little odd.

And yet, Acutis already seemed to know that Ignis was overworked, when Noctis had the news broken to him by circumstantial evidence. So they must have confided in each other. Noctis felt a little irritated at the discovery. Surely Ignis didn’t trust Acutis more than him, when he didn’t even have the guys phone number saved?

But then again, what did Noctis know about the way ‘normal’ people treated each other? When Acutis was genuinely upset at Ignis condition, Noctis made up his mind to recruit the guy for the next week, if only because he seemed to have some influence on Ignis’ attitude towards a vacation. 

His advisors’ health was another thing that worried him. He wasn’t sure if it was a lingering aftereffect or if it was his fault for putting him to work just like that again. 

He was relieved when Prompto persuaded Ignis to go to the medical building, and after he got a text sometime later saying everything was fine, he was almost appeased. _Almost_.

So the next morning came, and he was in the car with his father, on the way to greet their guests. Gladio and Clarus were with them and would be acting as their shadows for the next four days. Noctis had left Ignis behind to keep Prompto company and prepare for later, but in reality it was another attempt at keeping him off work. From the way Ignis had looked at him, he had known. 

Noctis used their time in the car to propose the idea of getting Acutis as his assistant for the next week. His father handled all the work contracts, and usually also decided who replaced Ignis or Gladio in the rare event they had time off, be it for work or vacation. They were mostly fine people, save for one Crownsguard that he had just _not_ gotten along with, so he had made that week a contest of shaking him off, almost giving the poor man a heart attack several times. 

Noctis hadn’t been able to say something to his father without admitting to sneaking out, but Gladio had laughed after he came back from the training trip and then proceeded to get the guy positioned as far away as possible. 

So of course his father was a little surprised at the request, and even more so when he heard _who_ Noctis had in mind, but after explaining the situation he agreed. 

“If Mr. Acutis replaces Mr. Fiducia next year, he will be on your cabinet someday. Might as well make sure you get along”, was all he had said. He seemed more concerned about Ignis’ wellbeing, but Noctis evaded the question and then it was time to face the music. 

The first half of the day was not too bad. Noctis had to mainly stand uncomfortably still behind his father during the speeches, give polite nods and handshakes as people introduced themselves, and look not _too_ bored when they made their way to the Citadel at a snail’s pace. People were on the streets, cheering for their royal family and the peace, whilst also looking in amazement at the foreign people with their unusual hair colours and clothes. 

Noctis thought he spotted some familiar faces in the crowd. It was easy for him to pick out the Crownsguards even without their uniforms from the way they stood and watched, and he hoped that this was because he had seen them before and not because they were that obvious. The guests didn’t seem to notice, at least. 

After they _finally_ arrived at the Citadel, it was more speeches, more showing around and a lot of exchanging gifts and pleasantries, before the ambassadors were shown to their rooms and given some time to refresh themselves and recover from their long trip to Insomnia. 

The break was very welcome. Gladio had been tense with nervous energy, and even though he stood behind Noctis most of the time, that aura was enough to set him on edge as well. It would do him good to unwind a little before facing the ball room. 

With three hours to mentally prepare himself before the gala, Noctis wrote a text to Prompto and asked him to come hang out a little. Since the current situation made it difficult to even go out to the gardens, they ended up in his living room again, playing a video game. Noctis vented a little to Prompto, who nodded in full support even though he probably had no idea what was going on half the time. 

Gladio sat on a chair, busying himself by pulling random weapons out of the Armiger and doing some maintenance, needed or not, whilst reading a novel on the side. Noctis supposed it was his form of meditation. 

Ignis was reading a file, occasionally chiming in, but he was clearly in a bad mood for some reason. Noctis wasn’t sure whether it was the tension permeating the whole Citadel, or if his friend was also getting nervous before the gala. He would accompany him in his official duties as his advisor, making conversation and doing some groundwork for the upcoming discussions. Noctis trusted Ignis to make decisions in his stead, so they would act independently from each other to cover more ground, and despite having gotten a blank check ages ago, Ignis for some reason disliked these occasions. He never really said why though. 

Ignis had given him a look when he had started the videogame, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what Ignis was thinking about him ‘wasting’ his time again, but he hadn’t said anything either and Noctis was not going to acknowledge his advisors concern, if only out of spite. He was maybe still a little miffed about the incident with the controller. 

However, he could only take so much of the pointed stares, subtle as they may be, and turned the screen off after an hour. Prompto sighed. “Aw man, I was on a roll!”

“Sorry. I just really need to get some more work done before the evening.” Noctis stood and stretched. “Specs, where are those profiles again?”

“In the green folder in the top left drawer,” came the answer immediately. He dug the thing out and begrudgingly started to flip through the pages. He had recognized most of the envoy earlier, but there were a few people he had not been able to place. Ignis had compiled the file with photographs, names, occupation, family and some relevant information on their social background and interests, if available. Noctis had the names and titles down by now, but he was struggling with the relationships. 

Apparently the Niflheim minister of international affairs was divorced from the daughter of some lord who would be visiting (Deliah was her name, he believed, she had seemed genuinely nice earlier) because he had married the secretary of their minister of agriculture, so he could not bring that up if the ex-wife was within earshot, but the minister would probably mention it since the wedding was coming up, so he had to somehow avoid him if she was present, because if she was upset she would mention it to her father who had some position with the Emperor, and so on. 

After he let out his fourth sigh in five minutes, the others seemed to at least take pity on him. Prompto began tossing chocolate chips his way to distract him a little, and Ignis was leaning in over his shoulder, pointing out the most important people and promising to talk to the rest himself, so Noctis wouldn’t have to bother unless they approached him first. 

“You are the best, Ignis!” he confessed at that. 

“I try”, came the answer with a sly grin. 

“Can you make us hot chocolate? Please?” Noctis was feeling the anticipation, and he desperately wanted to just sit on the couch and think about anything else for the moment. 

Ignis’ smile turned more sympathetic, and he squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “Of course. Give me a moment.”

He walked off, and Noctis just leaned back to stare at the ceiling, then closed his eyes briefly. He contemplated taking a nap, but he was already dressed up and all, and he didn’t want to redo his hair. So he listened _very_ intently to the noises from the kitchen, the water kettle, the clinking of porcelain, the coffee machine grinding some beans (one day of withdrawal seemingly enough for Ignis), the rustling of a bag of the little marshmallows, and finally, footsteps coming back.

Noctis relaxed at that, and only now noticed how he had tensed up. _He’s fine_ , he told himself. _Even the doctors said so_. 

They gathered around the room and enjoyed their drinks in mostly silence, each of them following their own thoughts. Eventually, it was time to get ready and head down. And that was when it happened. 

Prompto got up first, gathering the cups, and he said something to Noctis, who turned towards him. It was the only reason he saw Ignis get up and immediately sink to the floor, legs giving out, without any sound at all. Noctis’ world narrowed down to the sight of his friend on his knees, on the floor, _again_ , and for a moment, he couldn’t move. 

Gladio stared for now as well, and Prompto had yet to turn around. Time stilled for a second, the silence filled with a surprised, barely audible _”oh”_ coming from Ignis himself. 

He looked not as bad as he did the other day, he was conscious and seemed more taken aback than anything else. That expression quickly shifted into confusion and then annoyance, and he struggled to get back up on his feet. 

Noctis’ legs finally obeyed him and he went over to help him sit on the couch. “What is it, Ignis?”, he got out, voice strained as he forced himself to keep it quiet and calm. “I thought you said you were okay?”

“I am.” He didn’t sound convinced, and Noctis decided to finally call bullshit. 

“Ignis. Do. Not. Lie to me.” Why was he denying the fact he was unwell? Why did he not ask for help? It was so _frustrating_. He felt so _useless_.

“It was fine until a minute ago. I don’t know? I’m sorry?” He sounded so sincerely apologetic, looking at Noctis with confusion and a little shocked. It was heartbreaking. 

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re not going to pass out on me, right? Did you sleep enough?”

“I slept well enough, Prompto can attest to it. I think I’ll be okay, just give me a minute.” His speech came slow and a little slurred, but he was still perceptive and able to hold himself upright, so they gave him some space.

Prompto approached with a glass of water and Gladio had his phone out, tapping at the screen. “I sent a message to Iris, she’ll come take a look at you. Prompto, do you think you can take care for a minute? Noct and I really need to get going.”

Ignis looked like he was going to protest, but in the end he decided not to. Instead, he tilted his head back to rest against the couch and stared at the ceiling with a faraway look on his face. 

Noctis squeezed his arm as he got up to leave. “It’s okay, you guys just chill out here, alright? Tell Iris I said hi. I’ll check in as soon as they let me out of there.”

Prompto reassured them he would manage, but he looked a little startled. Noctis couldn’t blame him, the poor guy would be out of his depth if something did happen, and he hoped Iris would be here somewhat soon. 

The fact that it had happened again so soon and so _randomly_ worried him, and he had to make an effort to put his questions and insecurities about the situation aside and focus on his duties. But as soon as he arrived at the location of the main event, he was swept up into the maelstrom of the gala and had to direct his attention purely to his own survival. For once, he was glad about it. 

The hall was big, one of the biggest rooms in the Citadel, and it was _packed._ The guests mingled with Lucis own cabinet members, waiters dashed skilfully through the crowds to deliver appetizers and drinks, and in the shadows of the room stood their guards, just noticeable enough to be a presence. 

A small orchestra was playing music on a stage behind a large open space designated as the dancefloor, and already some pairs were going through a waltz. Noctis prayed he could avoid that particular area. His father was standing near the far left wall, looking up at a large stained glass window, retelling the story it depicted to a group of people politely listening. 

Noctis himself started to mingle, looking for familiar faces and deciding who would be worth talking to. To his infinite amusement, he spotted Acutis dressed in a servant uniform handing out champagne, looking somewhat distressed as the guests swarmed him (or rather his tray) like a school of piranhas. 

Noctis approached with a suppressed grin and grabbed a glass. “Looks like somebodies’ idea backfired on them”, he whispered as he passed by. 

“I did this to myself, didn’t I”, came the answer in an equally hushed whisper, tinged with regret. 

Noctis chuckled and moved on, recognizing a few more crownsguards moving about incognito. He saw a few Crownsguard ladies dressed up way nicer than their usual uniform, drinking champagne and chatting animatedly with their guests. Some were indeed on the dancefloor, and he was sure that some of them stepped on the feet of the Niflheim ambassadors more frequently and with more force than necessary. 

He nodded to some of them as he passed. It was reassuring to have backup close by, because now he had been recognized and people closed in on him, vying for his attention. 

He braced himself, pretended to take a sip of his champagne, watched the drop meet his nails, which stayed clear, and strode on to meet them as Noctis Lucis Caelum, Heir to the Throne and Chosen of the Crystal. 

The following hour became a blur of names and faces, pleasantries exchanged and games played with words sharpened to kill, people trying to coax secrets out of him or sway him in favour of their own agendas. He avoided all women from Tenebrae who had the double ribbons tied on the left side of their waist, signalling them to be untethered and willing to marry, after some of them started to ambush him at every opportunity. 

He was certain they had been sent specifically to woo him, either to cause a scandal or to get a family into the higher circles, because none of them actually held any important positions. 

He felt his suspicions somewhat confirmed as they congregated in a corner of the room to have a hushed conversation after chasing him for almost an hour, and their advances stopped. 

Until two of them showed up from around a pillar, introducing their brothers. He knew from Ignis’ lessons that the two silver pins on their lapels meant they were single, too. Great. Noctis wondered how he had insulted the Astrals to deserve _this_ , and if it was too late to repent. 

After extracting himself from _that_ mess he finally caught the Niflheim minister of infrastructure (one of the more important people to impress), and started a conversation about trade routes. 

The conversation was exhausting, they went in circles and the older man tried to catch him off guard or get him to slip up more than once, but in the end Noctis was satisfied with how he had handled the situation. 

He went on to greet the minister of immigration from Tenebrae, and then got held up by his own minister of finances, who briefed him on some intel he had gathered and pleaded for him to talk to some more people he hadn’t even spotted yet. 

He tried to keep away from the champagne as much as possible, but there was only so much he could do without being impolite, and listening to all the old people drone on made it _really_ tempting to just take a big swig.

He was just testing his third glass for questionable contents when his father approached him, greeting him in a whisper. “I hope you are holding up, son.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He hadn’t had any opportunity to update his father on his progress so far, and he had some questions on how to proceed with various topics after talking to the relevant ambassadors. Normally he would have gone to Ignis for a quick war council, but without his advisor, his dad was the next best person to ask, so he did. 

He also had to finally bite the bullet and tell his father about Ignis absence and the reasons for it, and they quickly divided the people on Ignis’ list up between themselves. 

He tried to find the Lady Briarwood, who held no real position herself but had great sway over some industries courtesy to her (late) wealthy husband. She hadn’t been on his list because Ignis knew more about the subject, but he was adequately informed and assured his dad he could manage. Her support could grant them an advantage. 

He circled the room twice before he finally spotted her, wearing a sparkling gown and enough jewellery to set off metal detectors a mile away, greying hair done up in an impressive beehive. He wondered how he had possibly missed the woman for this long. 

As he approached, skirting around the filling dancefloor and by the doors, he glanced out onto the balcony by pure chance and immediately stopped dead in his tracks. Because either he was hallucinating, or it was indeed Ignis standing there, chatting with someone he didn’t recognize and acting like he hadn’t been unable to walk barely two hours ago. 

So he did a double take to be sure. Yep, that was Ignis. He’d recognize that hair anywhere. Noctis stared at him absolutely dumbstruck. Ignis apparently felt his gaze, as he faced him almost immediately, giving a respectful nod and a pleasant smile. 

Noctis mechanically nodded back and moved on. He almost wanted to go out and confront his advisor as to _why the hell_ he was even here, but he couldn’t cause a scene, not here, not now, not in this company. 

As the shock from his discovery faded, he felt himself growing very irritated, and then very angry. 

Why would Ignis think this was a good idea? 

Why would he disregard Noctis _repeated_ pleas to take a break? This event was the worst possible place to be for anyone who wasn’t feeling perfectly well, because even the people who did sure wouldn’t anymore by the end of it. 

Why did he have no sense of self-preservation? Whatever had happened earlier was not as bad as the first breakdown, but how did the saying go? _Three time’s a pattern._ Ignis needed a break and possibly a more thorough checkup. 

Noctis forced a smile as he finally approached the Lady, but he was almost on autopilot. He felt like he was watching himself in third person as he thought about what to do. 

By the time the Lady took her leave, any pity and understanding he’d had for Ignis’ predicament had been replaced by concern and iron set determination. If Ignis did not want to listen, he had ways of _making_ him. He didn’t care if it was petty, and he didn’t care if their relationship might possibly (almost definitely) suffer a little. 

Ignis was being unreasonable? Two could play that game.

So as evening progressed into night and the party died down, he waited for his cue to leave. He made a detour to his fathers’ chambers, looked for some paper and a pen, and then waited for the king to arrive. It didn’t take long, fortunately. He had just gotten his phone out to check for messages (Iris had written _Ignis is fine, he just needs rest_ , and Prompto had written twenty minutes later _I’m sorry, I tried!_ ) when the door opened. 

His father was clearly surprised to see him, but not unhappy. “Noctis, what are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“Actually, it did.”

“Ah, is this about these nice ladies who followed you around?” Noctis just shook his head, expression kept carefully blank, knowing what he was about to do. “Or about the young gentlemen, perhaps?” 

Noctis was not in the mood for these jokes, so he just shook his head again and put the paper down on the table between them.

“I really need you to sign this. Please.” His father read the few sentences he had written, frown deepening. 

“Is there a reason behind this?” he asked after a long silence, looking very concerned indeed. 

Noctis told him. The king signed. Gave him a hug before he left. “I’m sure it will be alright, son.”

Noctis only nodded, and then made his way to Ignis’ rooms after confirming with Prompto he was there. It was also Prompto who opened the door, smiling guiltily at him. 

“I really tried to keep him from going, I did, but I think he was really ready to fight me. I’m sorry.”

Noctis patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault. I never explicitly told him to stay home, but I had hoped his common sense would finally kick in. My mistake,” he said with a sorry smile. 

Ignis was at his desk, no doubt writing down the important events of the evening. As Noctis entered, he stood up. “Ah, Noctis, great timing, could I ask you for your opinion on this?” Noctis stepped up to the table without a word, and Ignis looked at him with careful curiosity, probably feeling that something was off. “Do you need something?”

Noctis slammed the paper down on the table and leaned back in silence, arms crossed and a defiant look on his face. 

Ignis looked confused and started to read, first frowning, then with widening eyes and the colour draining from his face. He stood completely still, reading again, and finally looked up at Noctis in horror. 

“Noctis, you can’t mean…” he croaked out. “Suspended…?”


	8. Noctis

That night, Noctis had trouble falling asleep, going over the previous days again and again. He was fairly certain that he had made the right decision. Something _was_ wrong with Ignis, of that he was sure. 

He was not so sure whether it was plainly overexertion, or if Ignis was maybe indeed hiding something more from him. The way he insisted that nothing was wrong did the opposite of convincing Noctis of it. 

The doctors had cleared him for duty today, but apparently that had been a miscalculation on their part. Noctis knew that could happen, especially if Ignis downplayed his problems in front of them as well. If they _had_ found something worth mentioning, he would have been informed. 

Unless Ignis had lied to him about that. The man was a workaholic and an incorrectable perfectionist. He hated to take days off out of fear something might happen that would warrant his attention. He took pride his work, he had been raised for the job his whole life and obviously didn’t know what to do without it. 

It had been evident in the way he had looked at him after reading the letter of suspension. It was only seven days, Noctis had promised that much, but it might as well have been an execution order, the way Ignis had reacted. 

For a moment Noctis had been afraid he would pass out again, this time from the news, and he had looked utterly betrayed. It was nothing like Noctis had ever seen from his advisor. Noctis’ resolution had nearly faltered at the sight, and he had left without further commentary save a quiet “I’m sorry, but you wouldn’t listen”. Before he could change his mind. 

He knew that a discussion at that point would have been futile, and instead resolved to maybe talking the next day. Ignis had Prompto to keep him company for the moment, so he would be fine until then. 

He decided he did not regret his actions. He _had_ tried to get Ignis to see reason on his own, but if he needed to get his friends, family and the entire crownsguard in on it to keep his chamberlain down, he would do it. That did not mean he enjoyed it. 

He knew he had hurt his friend with this, but if he wouldn’t _listen_ there was only so much Noctis could do. Better to hurt his feelings than risking an actual injury. Yea. Ignis would take the break, come back in a week refreshed and rightfully scorned, and Noctis could stop worrying. 

He fell asleep eventually, being exhausted from the day’s events and the knowledge that tomorrow would hardly be any better. If he had known just how much worse it was going to get, he would have enjoyed the simplicity of his current predicament a little more. 

When he awoke the next morning to his alarm, it took him a moment to register he had to get up with his own willpower today. So he begrudgingly crawled out of bed and got dressed. When he was about to leave for the kitchens to hunt for food, he noticed a commotion outside his door. He could not make out any words, but he recognized the voices of his guards getting agitated, and he thought he heard Prompto, briefly. 

The murmurs became clearer as he approached through the hall, and he could hear that his guards were trying to keep someone from entering. There also seemed to be more of them than he remembered, and he was fairly sure he could hear Ignis, in this quiet, measured tone he always had when he was about to gut someone with either words or weapons.

He opened the door to find indeed Ignis and Prompto standing there, Prompto looking decidedly uncomfortable in a confrontational situation, hanging back a little, six (Six?) clearly distressed crownsguards crossing their weapons over the door in an attempt to bar it, and a very irritated Ignis, who was standing perfectly straight about two metres in front of them, hands behind his back, chin up and barely containing his impatience. 

“Sir, we have orders straight from the King to not let anybody into His Highnesses’ rooms without special permission, and I am afraid that includes you as well!”

“Listen, I know that you know who I am, and that me being here is probably the very least of our problems, so drop it. If the King’s permission is required I will just go and get it, but we could all save ourselves the trouble and rather address the _problem at hand!_ ” Ignis voice was measured and icy, clearly trying to keep calm in the face of _idiots._

Noctis had the feeling that this might not be related to the suspension, like he had expected. Six guards were excessive, and directly in front of his door? Normally two were stationed a short distance away in the hallway, to keep a pretence of privacy. And nobody was to enter without his fathers permission? 

He took that in very quickly as he opened the door fully, and Ignis immediately abandoned his conversation with the guards and turned to him. “Your Highness, please, if I might enter, I’m afraid that we have something to discuss.” 

Something new had definitely happened. Ignis was in full formal advisor mode, and his father had reinforced the guard without telling him. The guards turned around as Ignis addressed him, now also aware of his presence. 

“Your Highness, we have specific orders from His Majesty to not let anybody in or out of your rooms, I’m afraid,” one of them said, looking nervous as he delivered the unpleasant news. He was not allowed to go out either? This seemed bad. 

He quickly weighed his options, but Ignis seemed to have information he himself currently lacked. It was coming dangerously close to ‘work’ again, but this seemed like an emergency situation, and in that case protocol was out the window anyway. He was actually relieved to be able to rely on Ignis in this moment, because his advisor most likely did not only have information about the problem, but also multiple solutions prepared and ready to be put into motion. Ignis had a talent of knowing things before they happened, it sometimes bordered on clairvoyance. (Ignis called it ‘common sense’, but eh, semantics). So if he wanted intel, this was the way to get it. Besides, there was nothing wrong with visiting a friend for a talk during vacation, right? He didn’t want to discuss this out in an open hallway however, and the guards would rather allow Ignis and Prompto inside than let him out, if the orders came from his father. He stepped aside a little. “Let them in.”

“Your Highness, I am afraid we cannot-“ 

“Be quiet. Ignis is right, you know who he is, and you know Prompto as well. They are no danger to me. Besides, if they were, Ignis could take you down on his own in under a minute. So let. Them. In.”

They shot a few insecure glances at the royal advisor, who was barely suppressing his annoyance. Noctis wasn’t exaggerating Ignis’ capabilities, but he’d rather not have the guards find out the painful way, so he shot them a warning glance in return and added some more authority to his last ‘request’.

They finally relented, and the three friends gathered around the dinnertable. Ignis would not meet his eyes, but he briefly explained what had caused the commotion, pushing personal grievances aside in favour of stoic professionalism. Typical. 

Apparently, two servants had vanished overnight, a nurse and a waiter, without a trace. Given how tight security was at the moment, it was odd, and they had no definitive proof it was relevant at all. Yet with the current circumstances, they could not afford to ignore the incident. 

The first assumption had been that the two might have snuck off after the party to spend the night together, but a brief interrogation of their friends and family revealed that they apparently didn’t even know each other, which made it too much of a coincidence that they both vanished simultaneously.

Further theories ranged from discovered spies, to them having been bought or threatened into compliance for some scheme by the ambassadors, to them having witnessed something they weren’t supposed to, and many more, but all revolving around a coup d’état. 

It did not pose an immediate threat, at least with the actual facts they had at the moment, so things would proceed as planned, but Regis had insisted that Noctis would be accompanied by more guards for the time being, until the two had been located. 

After finishing his explanations, Ignis stared at the table in silence. He suddenly looked very insecure, a polar opposite from when he had braved the guards outside, not meeting Noctis' gaze. Prompto shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, looking between the two of them as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. 

Noctis himself fiddled with a pen he had picked up earlier, trying to think of something to breach the silence as well. He was deciding between an apology or and inquiry about how he was feeling when Ignis beat him to it.

“I’m… sorry if I did something to upset you.” Well that was unexpected. He’d been sure Ignis would be angry at him. Noctis sighed wearily.

“You know I’m not upset, Iggy. Just worried. And maybe a little annoyed,” he admitted.

“I promise that it’s just a temporary thing, and I will be more than prepared to resume my duties. I apologize for my shortcomings yesterday.” His voice was quiet, almost resigned. 

“That’s not _it_ , godsdammit. I care about you, alright? And if you are unwell and I have to force you to take a break, then I am sorry as well, but I will not-“

He got interrupted by the door opening and closing, and footsteps approaching through the hall. They all turned and watched as Acutis stepped into the room, looking a little nervous, hands clutching his bag like a lifeline and stopping in the doorway with an unsure smile. 

“Good morning, Your Highness, and I am sorry to interrupt, but the treaty negotiations will begin shortly and your presence is required,” he said. “Ah, good morning to you too, Scientia. Prompto.”

Noctis blinked in surprise, he had not expected Acutis to get a clearance for duty this fast and had already been mentally prepared to sit through the coming negotiations alone.

“Morning to you, Acutis,” Ignis responded after a brief moment of total silence, “How did you get in here?”

Acutis turned a little and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Uhm… Through the door?”

“Well obviously, but what happened to the guards?”

“Nothing, I think? They are still outside if that’s what you’re asking.”

Ignis looked between Noctis, Acutis and the door. “I see. Well, if my presence is no longer required, I think I will take that time off after all. Until then, Your Highness.” And with that, he was gone. Prompto looked a bit unsure, so Noctis leaned a little closer and whispered “Could you please look after him whilst I’m at work?” before getting up himself and following Acutis to the meeting. 

Gladio met them outside the door with a confused look, pointing to Ignis just vanishing around a corner, chased by Prompto. Noctis shook his head slightly and mouthed _Later_ , gesturing at their audience. His Shield seemed to understand.

On the way to the council room he noticed the atmosphere in the Citadel had shifted yet again, feeling _off._ Everybody knew something was up, and they waited for the evidence. It was the calm before a storm. The conversation with Ignis was nagging at him, and he promised himself to visit later and talk it out. Little did he know ‘later’ would be six days. 

That afternoon, they found the two bodies stuffed behind some old crates in a forgotten corner of the basement. The guests were carefully kept unaware, but since they were the prime suspects any conversation became a literal minefield. Noctis got excused from most further meetings and spent the remainder of their visit in his rooms, under the watchful gazes of Gladio and the guards outside the door. He was not allowed out, and Ignis did not visit. 

The talks were a success nonetheless, and he was even allowed to move back into his apartment in the city the after they ended, and the days went back to almost normal. 

Almost, because the tension in the Citadel did not completely fade, and also because Ignis was not around. They hadn’t seen each other once after their talk in his rooms, and Noctis was tempted more than once to write a message and invite him over, but he also knew that Ignis would take that as a request rather than a suggestion. He was on (forced) vacation, and if he wanted to come over, Noctis wouldn’t say no, but it was not his choice to make. 

Yet he had heard absolutely nothing in five days now, and he started to wonder if Ignis was maybe still mad at him. He could see that possibility. Prompto kept him updated for the duration of their stay in the Citadel, insisting everything was fine and sending pictures of the two of them hanging out in that fancy café Ignis liked, but after they had returned to their houses in the city he had no intel on his advisor whatsoever. 

He really missed him. Acutis was okay, he tried his best and followed his tasks and instructions to the letter. It was honestly amazing, with the short notice he’d been given. He had a talent for planning and contributed quite a few promising ideas, not unlike the one at the security meeting. But he made Noctis all the more aware of how much _extra_ Ignis did. 

Like arriving early so Noctis could wake up to the smell of breakfast instead of the alarm, or putting game discs back in their proper cases so they would not get lost, or looking up who would be present during events and speeches and arranging the seating so Noctis could talk with someone he at least tolerated, or knowing when to leave him alone and when to offer advice during his homework, or when to push him towards homework at all and when to make some of these pastries he liked. How Ignis summarised reports into three sentences without losing any information, and how he could ask him for advice and know it was probably the best course of action, even if he did not personally agree. His calm stoicism and rational mind to keep him grounded when he was frustrated and about to lash out at the next inconvenience. You know, the little things. 

So of course he was grumpy when on day five, the only way he knew Ignis was even alive was when Gladio informed him that he could not come over for a movie night because they would go training together. 

Prompto was still busy with that class presentation he was supposed to give next week, having procrastinated whilst at the Citadel, so Noctis slumped down in his chair, sulking as he tried to occupy himself with the reports of the treaty negotiations. 

Acutis had been there in his place, but his style of summarizing was to add abbreviated notes next to the texts. It added more than it took off, and although he had good ideas and was not afraid to share them, it was not what he needed. 

Noctis had not even known Ignis apparently typed the summaries out from scratch. After twenty pages on the subject of trade routes and import taxes, he gave up trying to read.

“Hey Acutis, if you had to summarise this text in five sentences or less, what is it about?”

The other man nearly dropped the tea he was making in his hurry to stand to attention next to him. Another thing Noctis missed was people being more chill in his general vicinity. Acutis acted professional, but he was a little _too_ eager to please for his liking, almost jittery. If he wanted someone to agree with him all the time, he would get a parrot, teach it to say ‘Yes’ and leave it at that. 

“The trade routes will be established between the individual countries. We are trying to support a free market and enable competition, but Niflheim and Insomnia have a strong competition in their technology departments already, although they specialize more towards weaponry, and we have an advantage in entertainment. Tenebrae will presumably raise the prices on consumables and luxury goods, so we will hold off on that in the first months to not encourage them with demand. We are planning to invest a considerable amount of money in new trading vessels, and the next meeting will discuss the finances of that, mainly weighing pros and cons of using tax money from the populous or establishing higher import taxes, Your Highness.” 

There, that was so much easier to work with than twenty pages of transcript. Noctis took a moment to sort the information. “What is the schedule for that meeting? Am I going there myself?” He tilted his head over the back of his chair to get a better look at Acutis.

“The meeting is on Friday next week. There is a request for your presence at a charity auction that same day,” he answered swiftly. 

Noctis frowned. What kind of answer was that? “So will I be going there instead?”

“I don’t know, Your Highness.” Acutis seemed taken aback by the question.

“Well that depends if the auction is worth going to. What do you think?” Noctis meant to ask for the specific charity, the sponsors, the guests, any background drama currently going on with any of those, and how impolite it would be to not go. Ignis would have had that information already. Acutis apparently did not.

“I can’t possibly make that decision for you, Your Highness,” he deflected. 

“I’m not asking for a decision, I’m asking for an opinion! What is the auction even about?”

“Well, the event is organised by some of our more prominent figures in the entertainment industry, with quite a few sponsors being famous actors, singers and entertainers. Proceedings will go directly towards three different organizations providing for orphans and young homeless people. You would be asked to give an opening speech and maybe bid on a few items to raise interest.”

That sounded like it could be a fun evening. Better than attending a meeting to discuss taxes. Maybe he could even get some autographs of his favourite TV stars, depending on who was there. He opened his calendar app and made a note. 

“So you will go to the meeting for me, alright?”

Acutis shuffled on his spot, looking down at his shoes. “Well, Your Highness, I would certainly not be opposed, but, ah, you see, by that time I will have already returned to my usual duties, so you’d probably best check in with Scientia about that.”

Right, Ignis would be back for that, thank the gods. Noctis closed the calendar and went to speed dial. 

Ignis didn’t pick up. Noctis frowned and tried again. Still nothing. Now that was very unusual. Maybe he was busy? Or still mad at him? Taking his day off and leaving his phone behind?

What if something had happened?

Acutis was hovering nearby, so Noctis decided to ask him. The two were supposed to be friends, after all. “Have you heard anything from Iggy these past few days?”

“I ran into him in the kitchens two days ago, but aside from that, no. Why do you ask?”

“How was he?” Noctis knew it was impolite to answer a question with a question, but he was not in the mood to tell Acutis about their squabbles. 

“He seemed perfectly fine to me. Came in to try some new meat dish and talked a little about the ongoing investigations in the Citadel, but aside from the gossip there’s nothing new. I asked him about his health and he said he was doing good, if that’s what you are curious about.”

That was indeed what he was curious about. He decided then that without any work to do (or rather not wanting to do work) this would be a good excuse to make a visit. 

He got up and started looking for his discarded shoes under the couch table, and told Acutis to get ready to go out as well. He needed a driver, after all. 

“Can I ask where we are going?” Acutis inquired as he dutifully put on his jacket.

“Visiting Ignis.”

“Isn’t he on leave?” came the puzzled question. “I’m sure the matter of the meeting can wait for two more days?”

“It’s not about the meeting, we’re just gonna hang out. I’ll see if I can get you invited, if you want?”

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Something in Acutis’ tone made Noctis think this was not about inviting him, so he turned to face him for a proper conversation.

“What do you mean?”

Acutis turned slightly red at the ears, a tell he was embarrassed. “I just didn’t think that… n-nevermind, I see I was just assuming. It’s nothing, really.”

Noctis narrowed his eyes at him, “No, I am curious, please do tell me.”

“Well, you see, I just didn’t think… I mean, I really only know what Scientia tells me when we meet in the kitchens or during the council meetings, and I never asked, I just assumed… I always thought it was merely a work relationship you had, so I was surprised that you ‘hang out’ outside of that, is all.” 

What? Noctis was baffled. What kinds of conversations were the two of them having to make Acutis come to _that_ conclusion?

“Aha. What did he say exactly? I mean, I’m used to people talking behind my back, but I rarely get to find out what exactly they are talking about,” he asked with a joking grin. 

“It’s really nothing important…”

“Then there’s no harm in telling, is there?” The fact that Acutis tried to evade made him even more curious. 

“I suppose. It’s really just that he hardly talks about you at all. He just sometimes complains about work, but so do I, it means nothing really, we all need to vent somewhere, or we discuss the latest news in the Citadel, or something. Normal stuff, I guess.”

“Ignis, complaining about work? Are you sure we are talking about the same person?”

“Well, it’s just harmless stuff once in a while, it hardly means anything.”

“What does he even complain about?” Noctis would never have assumed Ignis was even familiar with the concept of disliking work. 

“You know, the stuff we all complain about sometimes. Work hours, getting up too early, extra shifts, no free time, the boss, the colleagues, being blamed for something you didn’t do, not being appreciated for what you did do… It’s actually fairly standard conversation, now that I think about it.”

Noctis wouldn’t know what counted as normal conversation amongst co-workers, but some of the things Acutis had just listed hit frighteningly close to home. It had never occurred to him that Ignis might dislike his job. He was basically raised for it, after all. 

But maybe that was just the thing. Noctis was raised (born) for his own job as well, and if someday, somehow a kind fairy would show up and offer him an out of being the fucking crown prince, he would take it without hesitation. He just didn’t have a choice in the matter.

_Does Ignis have a choice?_ , he thought. He didn’t know. _Was_ it possible for his retainers to quit on their own accords? He would have to ask his father about that sometime. 

He doubted they would leave him even if they could. It was just unthinkable. But maybe he could arrange it so they would be happier? And not breaking down from a burnout?

He worked through the logistics of that in his head as they drove towards the Citadel. Acutis followed him as he went to the rooms of his chamberlain and knocked, twice as nobody answered. 

But he seemed to be out of luck, because either Ignis wasn’t home or he wasn’t answering the door. He sighed heavily, there was nothing to be done about it, so he thought of something else to do. He’d rather not waste his visit here, and he could try again later. 

His father would be busy at work, Gladio was at training… ”Oh that’s right, they were going to train together this evening!” he exclaimed. He wondered how he had forgotten that. 

Acutis had apparently forgotten as well, judging by the look of surprise in his eyes. “Ah yes, Gladio mentioned it earlier, I remember now.”

Noctis weighed his options. He could go investigate the training grounds in the hopes of finding them, but there would be no talking until they finished, and the risk of getting roped into exercise as well was not worth it. _Iris then,_ he decided and started to make his way to one of his favourite hangout spots. 

Once inside the lab he was disappointed however, as Iris quickly waved on her way out of the room, shouting “Sorry, got a training injury to stitch up, back in twenty! Recruit shot himself in the foot,” voice way too cheerful for the circumstance. 

He scanned the room for someone else he knew, and the head nurse Maya made her way over as she spotted him. “Heyo, Noctis, what brings you here? Came to apply for that unpaid internship?” she asked in a cheeky tone. 

“Whatever you need me for, chief,” he laughed.

“Great to hear, it’s been rough the past few days. Mia, one of the nurses from internal, has gone missing and the guard has been all over the place since then. Speaking of, who’s that?” She pointed her chin at Acutis, hanging back near the door and curiously examining his surroundings. 

“Oh, that’s just Acutis. He’s filling in for Ignis at the moment.”

Maya squinted her eyes at the new guest. “He’s kinda in the way. If you don’t need him here, I suggest you send him off to do whatever it is these desk jockeys do when they don’t talk your ear off. Unless you want Iciar to repeat her famous speech from the room-114-incident.”

She had a point there. “I doubt he’d survive half as long as my dad did, but I see what you mean.” He turned and raised his voice, “Hey Acutis, I’ll be staying in here a little, so feel free to take a break. I’ll text you when I need a ride back.”

Acutis had been eying the blood samples stacked up on a shelf with morbid fascination, and seemed almost grateful being able to leave, as he immediately slinked out of the room after his dismissal. 

Maya just chuckled at that. “So, you wanna do FBCs or organs?”

“I’m wounded you’d underestimate me like that, I can do both simultaneously, you know?” It was an old joke because both consisted of waiting around for the sample to run (basically Noctis specialty), and yet newbies were regularly mindblown at the concept of multitasking. 

“I appreciate it. If you get these stacks cleared by the time I get back, I’ll tell you the story of that one guy who came in for a headache that turned out to be a four centimetre splinter in his skull!”

“How?!?”

“If you want to know get to work!”

So he did, taking a sample, starting a full blood count, before he centrifuged the rest, and then took the plasma to get readings on the requested internal organs. It was oddly quiet for a change, with only two nurses typing away at the PCs in the corner.

The PCs… Noctis quickly looked around to see if they were watching (they weren’t), and then sidled over to an unoccupied desktop. He knew the password, having to sometimes manually type readings into files if the machines acted up and refused to wirelessly transmit. A quick search opened the file he was looking for. _Ignis Scientia_. 

The thought that Ignis may be lying about his health had been bugging him for a while, and it couldn’t hurt to check, right? He knew it was technically illegal to access confidential information like this, but then again, he was the Prince, and if he wanted to know, he could get his hands on the data of his employees anytime. This way, he would just save everybody the paperwork. 

He quickly skimmed through the files, opening the most recent one first, and found nothing of notice. The next entry dated back to the required annual routine check-up and was predictably boring as well. Huh.

He quickly closed the file and opened another few with the names on the blood samples to make it look like he had just transferred a FBC result, and went back to his tasks. It was good to know that his friend was indeed alright, and he felt a little ashamed for spying, but he was also more at ease now. 

Overexertion he could fix. Maybe get someone else to drive him around, and get better at cooking for himself. Or learn to cook in general. Take-out? He pondered over the question as he worked, humming the King’s Knight tune to himself and hoping Iris would be back soon-ish. She was better at these things, maybe she could help him come up with something.

He was however out of luck, because Iris came back only for a few minutes before being called on again to assist with some surgery. He dutifully continued with his dull tasks, going as far as cleaning up a little in between. If the guards had really been disturbing the work here, it was the least he could do. 

He felt somehow responsible for that, after all. It occurred to him that he could ask about the incident of the missing nurse himself. Maybe he could get some new info or gossip they hadn’t shared with the guards. 

After one and a half hours had passed, he decided to give up on his chat with Iris and prepared to go, try finding Ignis again. Training should be almost over, anyway. Or...

He thought about just leaving, but then decided to go over into the ER proper to try his luck, or at least say goodbye. There was already a new commotion, and if they needed a hand he’d be willing to lend it. Besides, if he wanted gossip on the poor dead girl, the surgery was _the_ place to get it. Crazy what the doctors talk about when the patients don’t demand small talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realise it's the middle of the week, but time doesn't exist anymore and I was on a roll and decided to treat y'all. Next chapter will be out tomorrow, and a third one should be ready on saturday, unless there's going to be a major disaster keeping me from proofreading.


	9. Ignis

The suspension hit him like a punch in the gut. For the first few minutes, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe what he had just read. It was just a piece of paper, with a few lines scrawled in Noctis’ messy handwriting, and the pristine seal and signature of the King underneath. 

Yet it might have just as well been a coeurl, dropped on his desk. He would have actually preferred that, a coeurl he could have skewered with a lance from afar, and the clean-up would have been the biggest issue. 

He had tried to argue, to tell Noctis he was being unreasonable, but before he regained his speech the other had already left with a quiet apology. 

He followed out of his office in a daze, but the front door had already shut. Prompto was looking at him with open concern. “Everything alright? What was that about?”

Ignis wordlessly handed over the note, and Promptos’ eyes widened as he skimmed it. “Shit. Iggy, I’m so sorry! Do you need something? Want to talk about it?” He did not want to talk about it.

“I think I’d prefer to go to sleep early,” he mumbled. He was suddenly feeling drained, so much that he didn’t even bother changing before lying down. 

He turned the events of the previous days over and over again, trying to find out what had _happened._ Where he had gone wrong. 

First, there was the incident with the controller, of which he was still ashamed. Then he’d just broken down in Noctis’ kitchen, slept for _twelve hours_ , failed to write a simple proposal the following day, and nearly missed the gala, the most important event of this month. 

He had stolen from Noctis, caused him (unnecessary) concern by passing out, forcing Noct to take care of him when he needed the sleep as well, and failed the simplest request the next day. 

He didn’t even want to think about the gala. Noctis had been struggling with the amount of information, and he had been so relieved when Ignis had offered to talk to some of the guests in his stead, and then he had nearly failed to even appear. 

Prompto had tried to stop him from going, but Iris had said he was fine, the doctors had said he was fine, and he felt fine by the time he decided to head down, so he of course tried to do his damned job. 

There was nothing wrong with him! _Then why do I have these episodes?_ came the sudden thought. _What if they just haven’t found the problem yet? What if you’re too weak to continue?_ The doubts came unbidden, and he could not force them away or entirely dismiss them.

He turned on his side and curled in on himself, burying his face in a pillow. Prompto did not need to hear him crying, after all. Eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

A flood of message notifications woke him up in the middle of the night. His phone chimed an almost continuous note as the texts came in one after the other. He fumbled a little to get it out of his pocket, confused as to what caused this racket at almost four in the morning. 

The messages all said more or less the same: Two people had been reported missing, and all staff had been asked to report anything unusual, whilst the guard had been put on a higher level of alertness. The Kingsglaive-Groupchat was going crazy, trying to cope with the situation and upping security without being too obvious about it, to avoid a panic in the face of what could be either a coup d’état or a one-night-stand among the staff. 

There were texts from his superiors and colleagues as well, notifying him of the situation, but most of it was from his informant network, and he skimmed those first. Gossip travelled fast in the Citadel, and more often than not they knew about all the details of the scandals before the Crownsguard were even aware of them. 

The missing people were a nurse and a waiter, both last seen leaving their evening shift in the Citadel at eleven, just five hours ago. If it hadn’t been for their guests, nobody would have thought anything about it until the next evening. 

The sudden commotion seemed almost exaggerated. There was also nothing of substance in any of the texts he’d gotten, at least nothing he could immediately figure out. 

Yet, he had a feeling that this was going to get worse fast, and since he was awake anyway, he decided to do some digging, see what information he could find, and if this was a coincidence or something they needed to take seriously. 

He figured pretty quickly that the two were unlikely to be involved with each other, since they had never been seen interacting, and there was a prominent rumour that the nurse had a secret girlfriend. 

But two people going missing at the same time was hardly a coincidence. He forwarded this to Clarus and Ulric, and soon after he heard from Gladio that the security around the royal family would be reinforced, along with a request to watch over Noctis until Gladio got out of their emergency meeting. 

It seemed that the news of his suspension had either not yet reached Gladio, or he didn’t care. Protection was not one of Ignis main duties, but there was no denying the potential danger of the situation, and with Gladio indisposed he’d rather not leave their Prince in the hands of random Crownsguards. There could be a traitor anywhere, after all. 

He sent Gladio a text, hid a dagger in his jacket for good measure, gathered Prompto on the way out and headed to Noctis’ rooms. 

The guards had apparently heard he was suspended, or at least knew he was for the moment not included on the list of people Regis had allowed inside his sons’ rooms, and it was lucky for them Noctis opened the door when he did, because their insistent refusal had him suspicious of every single one of them, and he was indeed considering violence, as Noctis told them just moments later. 

To his surprise, Noctis seemed to have absolutely no idea about the ongoings in the Citadel, despite the news being almost four hours old at this point. He quickly recapped what he knew.

Noctis stared at him the entire time, like he was trying to gage something more from this conversation, and Ignis tried to avoid the piercing gaze. There was something accusatory in that look, making him uncomfortable. Like he had failed yet again and didn’t know.

He decided to apologize. That conversation was however interrupted before it could even start, as Acutis entered room. 

It had apparently taken less than a day to get him replaced. Jealousy and anger flared up inside him, but he quickly subdued these feelings, they would do him no good.

Noctis was looking just as surprised to see the guy. It was nice of Acutis to step in so quickly, and Ignis frankly didn’t envy him for what was likely to come these next days, with an investigation on top of the negotiations. 

The guy already seemed out of his depth, he was uncannily nervous, fiddling with his bag and a strain in his voice as he forced a happy ‘Good morning’. 

Ignis quickly excused himself, taking his leave and setting out for the archives. He would take the time off his usual duties, but that didn’t have to mean he would just laze about. If he could figure out something about the incident, he might just get himself back into good graces. 

He was stopped by Prompto, who caught him by the sleeve as he rounded the corner “Wait up, Iggy!”

Ignis felt a pang of guilt. Prompto was in the Citadel because of his request, and he had all but forgotten about him for a moment. The poor guy had put up with him yesterday, and Ignis wasn’t even sure he had gotten himself something to eat. They hadn’t had breakfast either. 

“I’m sorry, Prompto,” Ignis sighed, trying to sort his thoughts and revaluating some priorities. “What do you say we go out and get something nice for breakfast? There’s a café just outside the citadel, and they make excellent pancakes.”

Prompto gave him a shy smile. He looked down, the current events taking a toll on him too, but the prospect of food made him perk up a little, “Pancakes sound good.”

“Indeed. I’m feeling it’s going to be that kind of day.”

He tried to put on a smile as well as he led the way, but they walked mostly in silence. Ignis was still trying to process, and Prompto seemed lost in thought, passing by several photo ops without a glance. 

They got a table at the café and ordered the pancakes. As they waited, Ignis stirred his coffee absentmindedly, when Prompto spoke up for the first time since they arrived. 

“Y’know you don’t have to worry, right?” he asked.

“What?”

“About,” he gestured with his hands, trying to find the words, “all of this. Noctis. That Acutis guy. He’s not going to replace you.”

“I’m glad one of us is confident in that. It’s been less than twelve hours and I’m already no longer needed,” he said quietly, focused on the motion of the liquid in his cup.

Prompto slammed a hand down on the table and started to get up, “That’s not true!” Ignis blinked in surprise at the force behind the statement. Prompto quickly sat down again and looked around, but nobody paid them any mind.

“Noct is just worried about you, as am I by the way, and you’ve been refusing to take care of yourself, so I can’t exactly say I’m surprised he had to get you suspended,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Well I apologise for trying to do my job. If I’d known they’d get random people to do it for me in less than a day, I might have taken the offer earlier,” he quipped in a bitter tone. He realized he was acting rather childish, but he really didn’t care right now. 

Even Prompto seemed surprised at that response. He fell quiet for a moment, absentmindedly folding his napkin in random patterns and smoothing it out again. 

“Say, Iggy, do you remember when we first met? And I don’t mean seeing each other when you picked Noct up from school, but when I really introduced myself during my first visit in the Citadel?”

Ignis couldn’t forget that if he wanted to. The poor guy had been trembling, looking around the Citadel like a kid in a candy shop, when said kid knew he wasn’t supposed to be in said candy shop. He’d stuttered out a greeting, looking at Ignis with wide eyes, and then he all but jumped every time Ignis had addressed him for small talk. 

He’d had his reservations about Prompto until that moment, he wouldn’t have been the first to try and take advantage of the prince. Noctis didn’t make friends easy, and most attempted friendships didn’t last long enough to set foot in the Citadel. 

So Ignis had tried to be friendly with Prompto, only to do Noctis a favour, but the puppy eyes and endearing personality had him go from ‘suspicious’ to ‘I will protect this kid with my life’ in less than two hours. 

He chuckled at the memory, “Yes, I recall that. You looked like you were about to pass out from the stress the entire time.”

Prompto nodded. “Do you want to know why?” he asked. Ignis cocked his head to the side, listening.

“I was _terrified_ of you!”

“Of me?” Ignis echoed. “I’m sorry to hear that- I mean, I know I have a certain reputation in the Citadel, but you really had nothing to fear from me.”

“See, that’s not true,” Prompto said, shaking his head, “although I suppose I was not afraid of _you_ per se, but rather of meeting you.”

“Did Noct tell you I was the one doing the background checks?”

“He did, but that’s unrelated. No, I was terrified because I wasn’t sure if we’d get along,” Prompto explained, looking at him expectantly. 

Ignis was puzzled. “Why on earth would you care if you and I get along? Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad we do, but why was that your primary concern?”

“Because,” Prompto said in a serious voice, “even though I passed _your_ tests and background checks, that was Noctis’ test for me. Before I came to the Citadel, when we were at school, he talked about you and Gladio, you know. Just on occasion, but he made it really obvious you are important to him. And to this day, I am one hundred percent convinced that if the two of us hadn’t gotten along, it would have been my first and last visit. Like, no questions asked, effective immediately, ‘Sorry Prompto, but you need to go’.”

Ignis couldn’t help but feel… flattered? Embarrassed? Proud? It was a warm feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place, but it was nice, even if it was hard to believe. “Are you sure about that? I’d rather think he’d have forced me into compliance if that were the case.”

Prompto grinned at him. “Wanna hear another story?” and Ignis nodded, “so in middle school, Noct and I had math together, before we became friends. And he was sitting next to this other guy, I forgot his name, but they would talk in class and stuff and occasionally have lunch together. And I remember one day, Noct was late, and you brought him in and explained whatever to the teacher, and after you left the guy insulted you or something. I didn’t catch what exactly he said, something about your glasses, and Noct just – gets up, sits somewhere else, never talks to the guy again, and that” Prompto pointed his teaspoon at him, “is how I knew I really had to try and make a good first impression, or wave Nocts friendship goodbye.”

Ignis sat back in silence. He had never heard about any of this, but he knew Prompto had to be telling the truth, because lying was a foreign concept to him. 

He vaguely remembered Noctis talking about some kid in his class Ignis had never met, because the prince had suddenly dropped the topic one day before Ignis had gotten a name, and he wondered if it was the same incident.

Huh. Now he felt like an idiot.

It was ridiculous, thinking he would be replaced just like that. Noctis would _never_ , of that he was now absolutely certain. And despite counting Acutis as a friend, he realized that the guy would not last a month if he tried, so there really was nothing to worry about. He might as well take advantage of the situation, given the free time he now had.

“Thank you, Prompto. I’m really glad I invited you into the Citadel this week.”

“Anytime, Iggy.”

The next days were spent investigating the missing people (which quickly turned into a murder investigation) and possible relations, motives, anything that could explain this mystery. After two days, he hit a dead end and begrudgingly gave up, at least until new information was uncovered. 

He spent time hanging out with Prompto, a rare occasion with there just being the two of them, and they used that time to make good-hearted fun of Noct and Gladio behind their backs. 

He finally got around to reorganizing his office, went shopping for some additions to his wardrobe, and binged through an entire season of a TV show Gladio recommended. 

He visited the Amicitias, something he hadn’t done in ages, and even stayed for dinner after Iris repeatedly insisted. 

He also met Acutis in the kitchens once, looking decidedly more stressed than normal. “Acutis! Didn’t expect to see you down here!”

The other man turned around with a stressed smile, “Scientia. I could say the same to you. How’s that vacation treating you?” 

“I can’t complain, really, but it is starting to get incredibly boring. How are you doing these days? I hope His Highness isn’t giving you too much of a hard time?”

Acutis laughed at that. “You know, from what you have told me over the years, I was expecting much worse. Granted, it’s a lot of paperwork and planning, but either His Highness is trying to leave a good impression or you didn’t give him enough credit.”

“Really? How so?”

“Well, I was honestly dreading to remind His Highness to do his work, you complained so often about that, but he works through these reports almost faster than I can hand them in,” he explained, “although I suppose he hasn’t had much else to do in the Citadel, and even now the King is rather apprehensive in allowing him to run around the city without a squadron of guards.”

“Hmm, I’m glad you are spared the worst of it. Speaking of, you wouldn’t happen to have any news on that incident?” Ignis was unfortunately no longer privy to any news requiring a higher clearance, including council meetings, and he hoped Acutis maybe had a lead he himself had overlooked.

The other shifted uncomfortably and looked conflicted, “I really don’t think I do. I’m not sure I’d be allowed to tell you anyway. Besides, it has been almost a week, and we know nothing except their names and causes of death. I personally suspect it had something to do with our guests, but they left without further incident, so there is nothing to be done about it now. Maybe a plan gone wrong? Who knows,” he gave a shrug and started to pack his things up, preparing to leave.

Ignis thought about that. He hadn’t seen the autopsy reports, but Gladio had told him that the nurse had been drowned, apparently, and the waiter had been bludgeoned over the head with a heavy, still unidentified object. 

That they were killed in such different ways, yet at the same time and discovered in the same location did not sit right with him. He could not figure out why it had been these two in the first place, both were pretty low in the hierarchy, with no access to any valuable information or location. 

“It is a mystery, alright,” he remarked, more to himself than Acutis, who was now taking his leave to pick up Noctis from school. 

He did not see Noctis in that week. First because he did not care for another argument with the guards, and then because Noct went back to his apartment in the city and Ignis suspension also meant that he was no longer the designated driver, so there was no car. 

He thought about calling. He was sure Noctis was not angry with him, and he was also convinced their relationship would be back to normal in no time. He would however need to apologize for being so stubborn about taking a break, and that he’d rather do in person. 

It would only be three more days before he returned to work, so he didn’t mind terribly. The break was actually doing him good, he slept in more than once and only now noticed how tired he had apparently been. 

He picked up on his training again, something he had neglected in the past month in favour of preparing for the envoys, and Gladio took the opportunity to challenge him to a few matches. He accepted, eager to go against a real opponent instead of harassing the training dummies, and they agreed to meet the next evening. 

“To give you time to mentally prepare before I kick your ass straight to the infirmary!” Gladio had remarked. Ignis was fairly sure it had been intended as a joke. 

By day five he was _so_ ready to get back. The surplus of sleep and lack of work left him with too much energy, making him head out early for the training grounds to get some routine exercises in for the lack of something to do. 

They had picked a smaller courtyard next to the indoor training halls, so they would hopefully avoid the bulk of the newbies. He was not in the mood to put on a show for them. 

He put his bag on a bench on the side, carefully folded his training jacket next to it, and tried to decide whether he wanted to use a lance or daggers. He settled for the lance for warmup and the daggers for his sparring match later, and started a simple routine.

He barely noticed Gladio arriving, focused as he was. He just about saw the greatsword coming at him in his periphery and luckily managed to scramble out of the way. 

“Gladio! Did they not tell you it’s considered rude to ambush people like that?” The other just laughed.

“Sorry, just thought I’d score an easy point. Should have known better.”

“Are you that afraid of losing, resorting to these underhanded tactics?” he fired back. They were already starting to circle each other, the fight being opened like that. 

“Pretty rich coming from you, Mr. I-poison-my-daggers!” Ignis had no time to retort, Gladio decided to strike mid-sentence, just as he had predicted, and the small-talk was over. 

It was always a sort of uneven match, Gladio with his bulk, brute force and stamina versus Ignis, with his agility and precision. He had the daggers out, trying to dodge until he could get a decisive hit in, otherwise keeping his distance. 

The training weapons were blunted, but the force behind them still guaranteed some bruises, should they connect. 

He was also the one who had to keep up the speed, trying to get into a blind spot, whilst Gladio simply waited for him to come into his much larger range, otherwise keeping the broad blade in front of his body, blocking any thrown daggers with ease. 

The matches didn’t last longer than half a minute, most of the time, with Ignis either succeeding in his ambush or Gladio knocking him out as he tried. The longer they went on, the less likely Ignis was to win, and he forfeited two times, conserving his energy. 

Still, after an estimated forty minutes, the score was 21-16 in Gladios favour, not too bad. “I think we should take a short break, and I’ll try switching to the lance,” Ignis said, panting heavily with the exertion. 

“Alright, let’s take ten,” Gladio agreed, equally exhausted, sitting down on the floor immediately, wiping at his brow. 

Ignis made the effort to go back to the bench and get a towel for that. He sat down, watching some guards go through a set on the other side of the yard. As he tilted his head up to drain his water bottle, he spotted a very familiar figure behind a window on the first floor and nearly choked. 

If he wasn’t mistaken, that was Cor Leonis standing there, watching intently and giving a small nod as he noticed Ignis staring. Ignis nodded back, mind racing. He had suspected his evaluation to come up soon, but this wouldn’t be it, would it?

He was suspended, after all. Then again, that would logically speaking not impact his training. He looked at Gladio, who was at the far wall, picking out a shield for the next round. It was not too far-fetched to think he was in on this and had scheduled their training for a reason, but Ignis liked to believe his friend would have the decency to give him a subtle warning in that case. 

Maybe Cor was not here for him, or it was just a coincidence, after all. In any case, he would try just a little harder from here on out. Couldn’t hurt. He took a deep breath, the ten minutes being up, and started to make his way back onto the field. 

As he got up, the nausea set in. It took him a moment to even place the feeling.

After one step, the world started spinning. He knew he was going to pass out. 

The second step, his limbs grew suddenly very heavy. The thought of it finally registered.

He stopped, trying to turn around and at least collapse on the bench, but he knew he wouldn’t make it.

His vision was skipping blurry this time, going straight to black, and he vaguely noticed the sound as he hit the floor full-on. 

His whole body was numb, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, and he was unsure if he was still breathing. He felt someone turning him on his back, and there were far-away voices talking. This was infinitely worse than the previous times combined, and in his daze, he wondered if he would wake up this time. He did not have the strength, nor the urge, to fight for consciousness, and so he let himself succumb to the blackness.


	10. Noctis

The first thing Noctis saw as he entered the emergency room was Iris, shoving an IV stand towards a bed, pointing angrily at the far door and practically screaming at Gladio, “Get OUT Gladdy, you’re in the way!” He followed Iris’s gaze.

The second thing was Gladio, obediently retreating through the door. He didn’t notice Noctis, but his eyes were wide with shock, lips pressed together in a white line and face paler than Noctis had ever seen. He followed Gladios’ look. 

He heard and saw Iciar, issuing orders at Iris and Maya in a firm voice, “Iris, get the pulse-oxi and the EKG going, Maya, we’ll need artificial respiration, hand me some adrenaline.” She sounded oddly strained, and was currently drawing blood from a pale, exposed arm, before taking the samples and fitting the IV in quick, practiced motions. 

As she shifted a little, Noctis could glance past her into the bed. Time crawled to a halt as he processed the picture. Ignis was lying there, unresponsive in a way that made Noctis stomach churn. His hair was a mess, the glasses missing, and he was dressed in a training outfit, the shirt of which Iris was unceremoniously cutting open with a pair of scissors to get an EKG set up. 

Noctis stood there, mortified, as his mind came to a complete standstill and then kicked into overdrive. His legs carried him closer without his conscious input, and someone, probably himself, asked “What happened?” He wanted to desperately understand what was going on, but his brain simultaneously refused to acknowledge this reality. 

He felt like he was having a weird dream, strangely detached as his thoughts tried to catch up with whatever absurd scenario was in front of him. This couldn’t possibly be happening, right?

Iciar, without turning, answered his question, “Don’t know yet, take these,” and she pushed the blood samples into his hands. “I want full blood count and complete organ profile, and get the liver and kidneys first. Use two rotors and out kick anything else currently running if you need, you get priority, now go.”

Noctis nodded silently and turned around, still trying to comprehend and very thankful for the lessons in ER etiquette she had ingrained into him, because now he could allow muscle memory to take over and lead him back to the lab. He wasn’t sure he would have managed to do it if he’d had to think about it. 

He arrived in there with no recollection of how, standing in front of the machines and already punching Ignis’ patient ID into the first device. He cursed out loud as he misclicked, having to redo the entire sequence, and he pulled the cap off the sample with more force than needed. 

Holding the small tube under the probing needle, he noticed his hand was shaking violently, and he gripped it with his other to try and keep steady. 

The probing needle withdrew into the machine, which started running the sample with familiar whirrs and clicks, and he yanked a centrifuge open and shoved the sample inside, or rather tried to, as the tube caught on the rim of the godsdamned thing and he barely managed to not drop it. 

He had forgotten to screw the lid back on, and a good amount splashed out, across the counter and into the centrifuge before he yanked his hand back in reflex and righted the container again. He cursed once more, trying to process how to deal with the inconvenience. 

There was still enough blood left for what he had planned, so he threw everything Iciar had ever taught him out the window and slammed the sample into the bloody centrifuge, readjusting the counterweight and promising to buy a new one should this ruin the damn thing in the aftermath. He set the timer for two minutes, the lowest he dared, and pressed start.

The seconds on the display started ticking down from 120 way too slowly. He stared at it, willing it to go faster, and the rational part of his brain clawed its way to the forefront of his thoughts. 

He was suddenly very grateful for all the things that had taught him to control his emotions in favour of logic and rationalism, to prevent him from saying the wrong thing to the wrong people or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

So Noctis took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and gathered his wits back together. Ignis was out there, a door away, but the best thing Noctis could do for him at the moment was waiting for these tests to run.

The professionals outside knew more than he did, and as much as he wanted to go out there, he knew he would be useless at best and distracting at the worst. So he had to believe that everything would be fine, calm down and do as he was told. 

He opened his eyes again. The timer was at 103. The blood spilled inside the centrifuge had been splattered against the plastic lid, painting the thing a morbid rusty red from the inside. 

There was some on the counter as well. Iciars lessons came to mind, and automatically reached for a cloth from the sink and started to wipe up the mess. He was more thorough than he needed to be, as if he could wipe away the reality along with the drops. 85 seconds left.

The methodically rinsed the cloth under running water, watching the water turn from reddish to pink and finally flowing clear down the drain. He frowned as he saw his hands covered in the stuff, and so he grabbed the soap and cleaned them as well. A glance to the side. 64 seconds. 

The blood seemed to stick to him, and he scrubbed harder, willing it to go away. If anything the stains seemed to grow darker. 

Noctis stilled and pulled his hand back. His heart stopped for a moment, and _finally_ his mind sprang back into proper action and reality. There was no blood left on his hands. It was his fingernails slowly changing colour to a blueish black. 

He turned on his heel and was out the door in an instant, already reaching into the Armiger for the phial that would fix this, fix Ignis. He sprinted up to the bed where the others were still at work.

The EKG was running, and Noctis had never learnt to read the damn thing, but he knew from past experiences that it was not supposed to look like _this_. The machines were beeping in an irrational rhythm, and there was a tube shoved down Ignis’ airways, connected to a respiratory machine to do the breathing for him. He was hooked to the IV drip, and Iciar was injecting him with something in carefully measured increments, a worried expression on her face. 

Iris was pale at her side, handing her whatever she requested, and Maya was nowhere to be seen. 

Noctis took this all in in the time it took him to get there. He ignored the puzzled looks and questions directed at him, there was no time to talk, and he briefly paused, thinking. He had always been instructed to drink the antidote if he discovered a poison, and he didn’t know if it would suffice to crush it in the hand like a normal potion. 

However, Ignis was definitely not able to drink anything, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk the damn thing not working properly, he only had the one. 

He looked around, a half-formed solution already there, and he thanked the Astrals, his father, his entire council of boring old people, and most of all Iciar for sending him in here all these years back as he reached for an empty syringe. 

The IV was blocked by the drip, no time to unscrew that, and a tiny part of his mind said _Hey, you kind of always wanted to do this_ , as the leaned forward and buried the needle in the jugular. 

He ignored the protests and screams from the others as he watched the monitors with baited breath. He clutched Ignis hand with both of his, hard enough that it would have warranted a complaint if he’d been awake, taking comfort in feeling of warm skin and a fluttering pulse beneath his fingers. 

After what felt like an eternity, the incessant beeping around them smoothed out into a more regular rhythm, and Iciar had to hurry to remove the tube as Ignis’ coughing reflex set back in. 

He didn’t wake, but his breathing was regular, and suddenly the tension in the room bled away, replaced mental exhaustion. 

He heard Iciar sigh deeply as she turned to him, “Noctis, what for the hell was this about?” she asked wearily. 

Noctis looked around the room, but it was still only the three of them, and he decided that Iris could know, so he wordlessly held out his hand, presenting his splotchy black and blue nails, watching Iciars face as she realised the implications. 

His whole arm was shaking, first with the aftermath of shock, and then with rising fury. 

“I see,” was all the doctor said, before busying herself once more with her work, now checking motoric reflexes, giving herself time to think. Sometimes Noctis envied her for being able to stay so calm in the face of near death.

He took a breath, strode towards one of the bare, white-tiled walls of the room. He stopped one step short of it, the white taking up his entire vision, staring into nothingness as he tried to calm himself down, formulate a plan of action. Think about what to do next. 

Someone had tried to murder Ignis, who had been his friend and advisor for as long as he could remember, and he wanted to know why.

Someone had tried to murder Ignis, who was connected to him by magic, the first person he had ever shared it with, his first and most loyal Glaive, and he wanted to know how. 

Someone had tried to murder Ignis, his brother, and he wanted to know _who_.

And dragging out the last shred of sanity from beneath his fury, Noctis promised himself not to kill them when he found them, because he refused to give them the easy way out. 

He knew there were worse things than violence to make someone pay. Gladio and Ignis were the prime example for that. When Gladio was upset, he’d punch somebody and that was it. 

When Ignis was upset, he got that aura that made people fear him like the plague, because he would not hesitate to destroy their lives from the inside out with perfectly legal methods and a polite smile. 

When Noctis was upset... Not cranky or just mildly inconvenienced, that happened regularly, but _really_ upset, borderline furious, seething with rage… Then he could feel the magic of the Crystal crackling at his fingertips, ready to hurl elemancy at his enemies, turning them to ash and ice, the weapons in his Armiger nearly pushing themselves into his palms, begging to be the one that impaled those who drew his wrath, and the Astrals mercy could not save them…

_No. No murder. Not yet. This requires a more diplomatic approach. Information. Allies. Enemies. What would Ignis do?_

Noctis took another deep breath and rubbed his stinging eyes.

He tried to think. He needed to find whoever did this. He sorted through the information he had. 

Ignis had been poisoned. That much he knew. He suspected this had to have happened recently, and judging from the general confusion and lack of external injuries, it had been done stealthily. Ignis had also come here straight from the training grounds, judging by his clothes. 

That meant whoever did this was most likely inside the Citadel right now.

Noctis could not come up with a motive straight away, he didn’t know that Ignis had any enemies. He also did not know what poison exactly was used, or how it was administered. Depending on the substance, it could take anything from seconds to hours to take effect, giving a rather broad timespan.

He needed to keep Ignis safe and find out more, in that order.

He took a deep breath and turned back around. Maya was back, looking confused and trying to calm a silently distressed Iris. Iciar was still busy keeping an eye on Ignis, who was still… sleeping? He hoped it was just that. 

“Iciar,” Noctis called, “can you tell me what happened, exactly?”

The woman barely glanced in his direction. “I know not really. Gladio brought him inside and said he is collapsed without reason during practice. Although I suppose we know now reason,” she added. 

Noctis nodded, “Can you try and figure out what it was, exactly?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises,” came the answer.

Iris had followed their conversation with a confused expression. “Can someone please tell me what is going on?” she demanded, with suspiciously shiny eyes. Noctis felt a little guilty, she obviously cared a lot, and professionalism only gets you so far. 

Noctis contemplated. The nail polish and antidote were supposed to be a secret, but Iris had already witnessed it, so he risked more by not telling her. If she mentioned it to someone without knowing any better, the information could get into the wrong hands. Besides, someone here did want Ignis dead for some reason, and Noctis could already feel the paranoia building in his head.

Iris was one of the very few people he would blindly trust in this situation, and she couldn’t help keeping Ignis safe if she didn’t know what to look out for. If only Maya wasn’t in the room…

Thankfully, Iciar seemed to come to the same conclusion, as she turned to the head nurse “Maya, darling, can you go to look at the samples and bring the papers to me?”

The other obediently left, and Noctis gave Iris a basic outline of what had happened. She looked shocked at the news, tears finally spilling over, but she nodded at his request to not let anybody in for visitation until he could get some security set up, and to keep in touch if anything should happen. 

He asked Iciar to run drug tests to hopefully pin down the substance that was used, and she answered with a solemn nod. Ignis would likely be out cold for a few more hours, one of the side effects of the antidote apparently being extreme fatigue. It made sense, there was a considerable amount of magic in that concoction, enough that Noctis had felt it when he had administered it. But the doctor promised him that Ignis would be fine, and that was really all he could ask for. 

Without being able to ask Ignis directly for information, Noctis did the next best thing and left the room to look for Gladio. If he had brought him here, he could at least tell him what exactly had happened to make them come to ER in the first place.

He did not have to go far, his Shield was faithfully keeping watch right outside the door, pacing back and forth. He looked surprised to see Noctis, but the look on Noctis’ face was enough to keep Gladio from asking questions. 

Noctis glanced around, and seeing nobody else, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms, asking “What happened?”

Gladio shrugged and mirrored Noctis position on the other wall. “I’m not sure. We were out training, sparring, and I swear he was fine. Gotta couple of bruises from the damn daggers to prove it. Then we take a break, he sits down, and when I get back to the field I turn around and he’s just… lying there. Didn’t say anything, didn’t act weird, I just turn around and see him on the floor. Cor apparently was watching from the windows, he came running down and helped me get him here. Said he’d seen Iggy get up and just… fall over.”

Noctis nodded. That sounded oddly similar to the breakdowns he had witnessed over the previous week, if more severe, and he wondered if they were connected somehow. It would explain a few things, but there were even more new questions, mainly how, why and more importantly, who. 

It was no use thinking about it now, he had other priorities. “Did you see him eat or drink anything?” Noctis asked. 

Gladio frowned at the question, immediately catching on there was _something_ going on here. “Aside from water? Nothing I recall.”

“Water, huh,” Noctis said to himself, “you wouldn’t happen to have that here?”

Gladio pointed to a black bag sitting underneath a chair in the hallway. “One of the guards was nice enough to bring his bag. Might be in there, I dunno.”

Noctis pulled the bag open and started sifting through the contents. Spare clothes, a towel, wallet, phone, shoes… And there, an empty bottle of water. He took it out, opened it and, after checking both his hands, found a clear spot on his left pinkie. 

He turned the bottle upside down and waited for the last drops to gather so he could swipe them up. The nail turned black within seconds. 

Gladio crossed his arms, but waited patiently for an explanation. Noctis turned towards him. “Somebody tried to kill Ignis. This is poisoned,” he explained, matter-of-factly. 

Gladio hissed at the revelation. “I didn’t see anybody suspicious around. Dammit! If I had paid more attention…” He looked at the wall as if he was going to punch it, but luckily decided to refrain. 

“Listen, Gladio, I need more information, and I need to speak with Dad, and I need to somehow keep the culprit from getting their hands on him. I don’t know who I can trust right now. Iris and Dr. Iciar know, and now you, so I want you to keep an eye on him and don’t let anybody else near, no matter who. I’ll send some guards over to relieve you as soon as I can, and if you can think of anything that may be important, send me a text, especially for motive or possible enemies.” 

Noctis dismissed the bottle into the Armiger as evidence. Gladio nodded confirmation with a grim look on his face, and Noctis poked his head back into the room, “Iris, Iciar, I’ll leave Gladio with you guys. Tell me if anything happens!”

As he was about to walk off, he remembered to ask one last thing that had been on his mind. “Gladio,” he said into the quiet of the hallway, waiting for his friend to turn around and look him in the eyes, so he could assess the coming answer better. 

“Do you enjoy working for me?”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world,” came the answer immediately, and Gladio gave him a small, but honest smile as he bowed with a hand on his chest, “Noctis.”

Noctis nodded in return, having no words to properly respond to _that_. He’d known the answer, but it felt good to hear it. 

Then he went to see his father. He tried to look somewhat composed on the way there, suspiciously eying anybody that crossed his path and turning the bits and pieces of information over in his head. When he got closer to the office, he schooled his face into a carefully blank expression, the kind that made other people fear for their safety and jobs, steely determination setting in.

He did not try to suppress his anger. It was a good motivator, and it kept the fear down. 

The people he encountered jumped out of his way, and he could only imagine what he must look like to them, striding with an untypical sense of purpose and radiating fury. 

The guards in front of the office didn’t even try to stop him, and he knocked loudly, twice, to announce his presence, not bothering to wait for an answer before barging in. 

His father was sitting at his desk, with Clarus and Cor in the chairs in front. All three turned to him in unison as he came in.

“Noctis, what on Eos are you-“ 

“Father, I need to speak with you,” he announced, with all the self-confidence he could muster. “In private,” he added, after they just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. 

His tone made it clear that this was not a request, and his father nodded and turned to his glaives. “If you could give us a moment.”

The other men left the room begrudgingly, their curiosity was obvious, but they could not hear what Noctis was about to tell. After the door closed, his father stood up and sat on the sofa on the side of the room, patting the cushion next to him to invite Noctis to sit. 

He decided to remain standing. “If Cor was here, I assume you already know the gist of it.”

“Is he going to be alright?” was what he got as an answer. Noctis knew his father cared about Ignis as well, he was part of the family, and Noctis realized he was the first to bring more news on the outcome of the scenario. He quickly assured that Ignis was going to be okay. 

“Is this related to the breakdowns he had?” was the next question.

Noctis quietly pulled a hand out of his pocket and presented it. “I think so. I don’t know who, and I don’t know why, but we can maybe figure out when and how and go from there.”

His father’s eyes widened at the sight of the black nails, but he kept his composure. “Is this a plot against you, or is it against Ignis?” he asked. 

That was the great question. It was an important distinction, but their lives were connected in so many ways that it was difficult to draw clear lines. Noctis had been thinking about that, but he could not come to a conclusion. 

He knew that the people in his vicinity were always in danger of being used against him. It was common knowledge just how much Noctis relied on Ignis as an advisor and as a friend, and his loss would considerably weaken him, subsequently causing a certain amount of chaos in the Citadel, the extent of which was hard to imagine (because he really didn’t want to). That would indicate a ploy to weaken the royal family, possibly aiming to undermine their ranks with the help of rearranging positions in the wake of Ignis’ death. 

The other possible motive was a personal grudge, something Noctis found difficult to imagine. From what he knew, Ignis was well respected in the Citadel, or at least there was nobody being openly hostile (that he knew of). It could be something private, something he had no knowledge of, but he would need to wait for Ignis to wake up to answer that question. 

“I don’t know what the end goal here was. I have this,” he pulled the empty water bottle from the Armiger after wrapping his shirt around his hand to keep his own fingerprints off, “The poison was in here, and I’d like to get this looked at.”

He set the bottle on the table. “I also need some Crownsguard we completely trust to keep an eye on him. Gladio, Iris and Iciar know what happened, and I had to tell them about the nail polish, they saw me use it. Gladio is keeping watch right now. I have no idea if we are dealing with a single culprit or a group, but I’m fairly certain whoever laced the water is inside the Citadel.”

His father looked at him with something like approval in his eyes. “I see you already have a course of action prepared. I’ll get Crowe and Libertus to take some shifts for protection. If Gladio and Iris know, there is nothing to be done about it, and I agree that the responsible parties are likely in the Citadel, so you will have to increase your own security as well.”

But Noctis shook his head at that. “Actually, I’d like to resume the daily routines as normally as possible. At the moment, the only people who know there was an attempted murder are Gladio, Iris, Dr. Iciar and the two of us. Ignis might have an idea, but I don’t know. If we start a full-blown investigation, we’ll likely just scare them off. And I would _really_ like to have a… chat with them.”

“Are you saying you want to use Ignis and yourself as bait?” came the surprised answer. His father was obviously not pleased. 

“Sort of. Whatever substance they used, if this is indeed related to the previous incidents, it is designed to make it look like an illness or an accident. I doubt they would suddenly change that to open assault, unless they have a reason to. I can’t say for certain that I know their goal, but for whatever reason they wanted to get rid of Ignis. I used the antidote on him,” his father raised an eyebrow at that, which Noctis ignored, “and it’ll continue to eliminate anything in his system for 36 hours at least, so he’ll be safe for that time. I myself can use the nail polish. So I’d like to get 36 hours to try and lure them out. I think it’s our best bet.”

There was a long silence after his explanations, in which his father contemplated the proposal. “And you are sure you are not just trying to get them to come to you so you can execute some vigilante justice?”

“Of course I want the bastards behind bars, and I won’t kill them, if that is what you are asking. There are worse things than death, and they have some answering to do.”

His father nodded. “That indeed they do,” he said with a grim expression. “Very well, I’ll give you your time. But I want you to carry your watch at all times and press the emergency button as soon as there is even the _possibility_ of a threat. Anything else?”

The watch he mentioned was a standard security feature, and it could track GPS as well as send a distress signal at the touch of a button. Noctis regularly left it at home when he snuck out. 

“I’ll wear it, I promise. And there is one more thing. It is sort of unrelated, but I believe we might benefit from some rumours, now that I think about it,” he said and assumed his formal stance once more.

“Would you please terminate Gladiolus and Ignis work contracts? I’ll handle my employees on my own from here on out, thank you.” He said it in a voice that made sure this was not up for discussion.

To his surprise, his father started laughing. “I won’t even question that,” he said, and stood, coming over to Noctis and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll make a fine king one day, son.”

About thirty minutes later, Noctis was on his way back to the hospital. He carried the work contract with the pink slip stapled to it openly for everyone to see. His hopes were that in the case this was about Ignis’ position with him, the sudden removal of his advisor would coax their enemy out of hiding to make their next move. 

Gladio’s he had hidden in his jacket. He had been rethinking his conversation with Acutis, about how Ignis seemed unhappy with his employment. And after the events of today, he wanted to give his closest friends at least the choice to step away from their positions. 

They all knew that working this close to him could endanger them too. Gladios job description was to die before he did. And yet, Noctis had been shaken as his fears became a reality. Plus, Ignis had been a kid when he had first signed that paper, and Gladio was also kind of born into the role, with family tradition and whatnot. 

He knew they wouldn’t go, but he felt he had to at least offer. They would have a few days to consider, given the fact that he desperately needed Ignis to write the new contracts for him because Noctis sure as hell didn’t have a clue how to do that. 

At the hospital, he was ambushed by Iciar, who told him that there was not enough blood left for a thorough test, and they couldn’t get a new sample because the antidote had eliminated any traces in Ignis bloodstream, but with the combination of symptoms she was sure it had been some sort of neurotoxin, most likely a narcotic of some description. 

Ignis, having been declared stable, had been moved to a normal room, and was still asleep when Noctis entered. He was still hooked up to a monitor displaying his heartrate, and an IV drip, but to Noctis this was already infinitely better than the situation one hour ago. 

Gladio was sitting on a chair by the foot of the bed, strategically placed so he could see the door and both windows simultaneously, keeping watch on Ignis as much as looking out for any possible intruders wishing to harm their friend. 

Noctis quickly brought him up to speed on his plans, and handed him his terminated contract. Gladio accepted it with an amused grin.

“Is that why you asked whether or not I like the job?” he inquired. 

“Pretty much. And I know I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried, but promise me to at least think it over before you sign the new one. And that you’ll tell me should you ever change your mind.”

“You’re damn right you can’t get rid of me, and if I’m around anyway, I might as well get paid for it.” _Well, that’s that_ Noctis thought, grinning.

He placed Ignis contract on the stand beside the bed. He had not forgotten how terrified Ignis had looked at the suspension note, and he did not want to cause his friend any more grief, so he scribbled a quick note in cipher on the paper. _Don’t worry Iggy, you’ll get a new one if you want it, this is just a formality. I need to talk to you in person as soon as possible, but please take care of yourself first, for once._

He decided that his ruse would work better the less people knew about it, so Gladio had very strict instructions to not tell _anybody_ about this just being a formality and instead treat it like Ignis had actually been let go. Even to Iris. Especially Iris. Or any nurses. Gossip travelled fast in the Citadel.

As much as Noctis wished to stay and wait for his friend to recover, he knew he could put his limited time to better use, so he left with a heavy heart and set out to get to work. There were people out there who were about to rethink their life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for this weekend, fellas. It's still getting better ;)


	11. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kind words on the last chapter. I had to keep myself from replying because I am terrible at not spoiling stuff and I didn't want to ruin the story for anybody, but I assure you I read them all and they make my day :)

Ignis awoke to yet another unfamiliar ceiling. He hoped this was not going to become a common occurrence.

He felt physically exhausted, not only from the training. There was a buzz in his veins, not entirely unpleasant, but annoying in a way. It made his limbs feel prickly with energy, but at the same time they felt heavy, like the strength was being sapped out from him. 

He heard a soft, regular beeping to his left, together with something that sounded like dripping water, and someone was quietly snoring in the room. He tried to look around. 

The room was very dimly lit, moonlight streaming in through the windows, tinged purple by the nearby pillar of light. There was also the harsher light from the electronic devices next to him. 

He was in a hospital bed, he realized. The beeping came from a monitor displaying his vital signs, and the dripping sound was the IV attached to his right arm. He could feel the coolness of the liquid where it flowed into his blood. 

The snoring came from Gladio, who sat slumped in a chair by the foot of his bed, arms crossed and head on his shoulder in a way that would give him a terribly sore neck come morning. 

Gladio was however not the only person present. To Ignis immediate left, Iris was perched up in her own chair, holding a medical book close to the monitor, trying to read in the dim light it gave off. She nearly dropped it with excitement as Ignis cleared his throat in an attempt to speak. 

“Ignis! Ohmygosh you are awake, thank the gods! How are you feeling?” She kept her voice to an excited whisper, probably to try and not wake Gladio. 

“I feel alright,” he said, which was true enough. “What time is it?”

Iris glanced at her watch. “About half past five in the morning. You’ve been out for a while…” she trailed off, looking at him with careful curiosity before adding, “Do you remember what happened?”

Did he? He’d been so distracted by the surroundings he hadn’t yet tried to figure out how he got here. He didn’t remember walking. And this was a hospital. And both Gladio and Iris were here with him in the middle of the night. So something serious must have happened. To him, because he was the one in the bed. 

He tried to go back over the events of the previous day. One of the last things he remembered was training with Gladio. Had Gladio knocked him out or something? But no, nothing was hurting nearly bad enough for that to be the case. He also remembered seeing Cor on the training grounds. And then shortly after he got up and… Oh. 

“Yes, I remember,” he answered, leaning back further into the pillows with a tired sigh. He had been fine all week, but it had happened again worse than ever before. He had ended up at the _hospital_. 

Most likely the whole Citadel knew by now that he had developed a habit of fainting like a maiden for no reason whatsoever. This was nothing he could simply ignore anymore. They would all demand answers from him. 

Like Iris did now. “Can you tell me what you remember?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he scoffed, “I got up and immediately passed out. No reason at all. I felt fine all day.” His voice a came out a little raspy, and he looked around for the pitcher of water that came with every hospital bed. 

As he sat up to reach for it on the side table, he noticed a piece of paper lying there as well. Before he could take a closer look however, Iris _slammed_ her book down on top of it, and then propped her elbows up on top of that, head in her hands and trying to look casual. 

Ignis turned the light on in response, to get a better look. “What is that?” he asked casually, pouring himself a glass of water. 

“Nothing?” She didn’t sound terribly convinced. Ignis simply waited, giving her one of the pointed looks usually reserved for Noctis when he refused to eat anything healthy. 

Unlike Noctis, Iris seemed actually effected. She turned her gaze away, saying “Look, it’s surely some kind of misunderstanding, Noctis wouldn’t just… You know. It’ll probably be fine and I am just missing something here. And if he _is_ serious about this, I will personally kick his ass, and Gladdy can’t stop me!” 

She lifted the book up again, revealing the paper. It took Ignis a moment to recognize it as his work contract, but once he did he immediately hyperfixated on the little pink slip stapled to it. 

The monitor next to him beeped angrily as he carefully laid back down. This couldn’t be happening. 

The whine that escaped him was enough to rouse Gladio, who immediately jumped out of his chair, looking ready to fight. A bit of an overreaction in Ignis’ opinion. 

Gladio looked across the entire room before finally relaxing and coming over to them. “Good to see you’re back among the living.”

“Gladdy! Don’t _joke_ about this!” Iris scowled at her brother, and then turned back towards him, trying to soothe him with feeble assurances that it would be alright. 

Gladio started to frown as well as he took a closer look at the expression on his face. “You alright there? Iris, what’s wrong?”

Iris motioned to the table. “Oh. I see. Say Iris, shouldn’t you try to find a doctor to check on him, now that he’s awake?” There was something underlying in his tone, and they exchanged a look in silent conversation, before Iris nodded and pushed herself out of the chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Once she was out the door, Gladio took the vacated seat and leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees, studying Ignis as if he were a newly discovered species. 

“You gave us quite the scare. Do you… have any idea why you passed out?”

“No I don’t. And before you ask, yes, I am sure. There hasn’t been anything wrong the entire week, and now… I don’t know…” he trailed off, looking at the paper on the table. He felt suddenly very tired. 

Gladio followed his gaze and put his face in his hand in exasperation. “Iggy, this isn’t what it looks like. You’ll be fine.”

Ignis gave a mirthless laugh. “Oh yes, I’ll be just dandy, without a job and a house once they kick me out of here. Hey, do you think they’ll write me a letter of recommendation if I ask nicely?” he spat out.

“Gods, Iggy, did you actually look at the thing?”

“I can see it just fine from here, thank you very much.”

Gladio picked the papers up and shoved them into Ignis’ face, pointing to a scribble on the bottom. It was written in the cipher he and Noctis used back when they were younger and thought it was cool to have a secret language. They had grown out of that phase years ago, and so it took him a moment to translate. 

When he finally had, he relaxed a little. This didn’t come directly from the king, if Noctis had written on it. And Noctis apparently was neither angry nor disappointed about this new development. Speaking of…

“Where is Noctis? Did he come by? Did he say something about this?” he asked, gesturing to the contract. 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “He came by alright. Three times since you got admitted. He actually just left about two hours ago. And if it helps, we’re in the same boat here,” he added and pulled a similar stack of papers out of his jacket, complete with pink slip. “I don’t know what the play here is exactly, but he asked me if I liked to work for him. Oh, also, if anybody asks, you are totally fired for real. Even if it’s Iris.”

Ignis didn’t know if it was the statement itself that tipped him off or the oddly serious expression on Gladios face. 

“There is something else going on here, isn’t there?”

It was too strange. Waking up in the hospital, the way Gladio kept surveying the room as if there was a sniper hiding under the bed, the strange questions they had asked him about why he passed out, the fact that Noctis had apparently come by in the middle of the night, that he and Gladio were ‘fired’, that he wasn’t but would have to act like he actually was, the strange note _I need to talk to you in person as soon as possible_ … 

Gladio shifted around to look out a window, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, before he said “Good to see that fall didn’t injure your head, at least. I… I’m not sure what is going on exactly.” He let out a tired sigh. “And I also don’t think I’m supposed to tell you anything. I’m not exactly in the loop myself, I know the bare necessities, and the rest is apparently above my paygrade. Not that I have one at the moment.” The joke was half-hearted at best.

“What do you mean, ‘above your paygrade?’ There are no things above our paygrade!” Ignis protested. They both had the highest security clearance. 

“Quiet down will you? I don’t know what it is, but are you really surprised the royal family has some secrets they keep from even us? We are supposed to be the last line of defense, but I doubt the monarchy would have gone for as long as it has without the royal highnesses keeping an eye on that last line as well. Somebody has to watch the watchmen.”

It made sense, Ignis knew that. Astrals, he had been fretting over his evaluation for the past month. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. “Are you saying this whole situation involves a state secret not even I know about?”

The way Gladio looked anywhere but him is confirmation enough. It also told him that Gladio either couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to him about it. Wait a minute… Is Gladio here for _his_ protection? But if that is the case…

“Gladio,” Ignis said quietly, throat suddenly tight with anxiety, “Who is keeping watch over Noctis right now?”

“Crowe and Libertus. They were nice enough take over for me, so that Iris and I could keep you company.” _So someone could keep an eye on you without being suspicious._

Ignis was feeling confused. He hated being confused. He had an extensive network of informants for the sole purpose of hearing things as soon as they happened. Yet right now, he had not even the faintest idea what was going on, except that there was danger and he was involved. 

“Where’s my phone?” he asked, sitting up and looking around for his belongings. 

Gladio pulled the training bag out from the wardrobe, handing it over with a wry smile. “One of the guys grabbed it together with your stuff from the training courtyard, and Noct got you some spare clothes last time he came by. I’m afraid your shirt got ruined tho.”

Ignis looked down at himself. He was still in his training jacket, but when he felt through the fabric he could tell his shirt was gone. 

“What a shame. I got it just this week. What happened to it?” He didn’t think he was injured. But he also hadn’t really checked since he woke up… He was scared to look. What if there was some kind of wound underneath and he couldn’t feel it because he was high on painkillers?

But then they wouldn’t let him move around so casually. And he would not be this awake. Right? There was this strange buzzing underneath his skin. 

Gladio shrugged in response to his question. “Dunno for sure, but I think they cut it open. Don’t expect them to get you a replacement, tho.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Ignis tried to find his phone in his bag, but the thing was too awkward to handle whilst lying back, so he decided to risk it and sit up properly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Thankfully, there was no spinning, no headache, and his body obeyed his commands just fine. 

His phone was buried underneath the spare clothes Noctis had brought. It was a nice gesture, but apparently Noct had grabbed things from his wardrobe at random, because none of it went together.

The phone battery was at 12%, and he had missed calls from Noctis from the previous evening. There was also a flood of messages, the app simply showing a ‘99+’ in the corner. 

Some of it were questions about his wellbeing and a request to write back as soon as he could, but even more covered the topic of his removal as Noctis advisor, asking if it was true, offering condolences and some rather strongly worded protests, and some groupchats having ongoing heated discussions about it. The Kingsglaive-Groupchat was even betting money on how long it would take Noctis to regret this decision. It ranged from less than a day (Ulric) to two weeks (Gladio).

“Are you betting money on my re-employment?”

“Maybe?”

Ignis shot him a disapproving look. “Proceedings from bets about me go partially to me, you know,” he said absentmindedly, closing the messages and going to his contacts. He was just about to phone Noctis when Gladio took the phone from his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Calling his Highness, obviously.”

“Ignis. It’s five in the morning. He’ll be asleep. Let him.” 

“If he really is asleep, then me calling him will not change that. But if he came by at three, I’d assume that he is for some reason pulling an all-nighter.” _Maybe he can’t sleep because he is worried?_

The thought made him feel pleased at first, he was touched at the notion, because that was probably exactly what was happening. He also felt a little guilty, because his situation kept Noctis awake and there was no reason to not phone in and let him know he was okay. 

He tried to reach for his phone, but Gladio swiftly moved out of reach. Ignis couldn’t follow, the IV leashed him to the bed, and he contemplated removing it on his own. 

Thankfully, the door opened at that very moment and Iris hurried in after a doctor he didn’t know, saving him from actually having to do so. 

He was again thoroughly questioned about how he was feeling, and had to undergo a whole series of motoric tests, before the doctor declared he was fine in a brisk statement.

“Does this mean I am allowed to leave, then?” he asked, hopeful that he might be able to return to the comfort of his own rooms. He wasn’t particularly fond of hospitals ever since the incident with the Marilith. He probably disliked them even more than Noctis did. 

The man looked at him with the annoyed glare of a person shortly before the end of their nightshift. “I would _recommend_ staying for one more day at least, but if you can walk out the exit on your own I can’t stop you.”

Ignis took that as his cue and gathered his things back up with the help of Gladio. They encountered no one on their whole way to the exit, the early morning hours casting the hallways in an eerie silence. 

“Gladio, could I maybe borrow your car?”

“To go where?”

“I’d like to speak to Noctis. _As soon as possible._ ” He emphasized the last part and put his hand over his pocket, where his contract was currently hidden from view. Noctis wouldn’t have requested this for no reason. 

“Iggy, it’s still _the middle of the night!_ ” Gladio hissed back. “Besides, have you looked in a mirror recently? There’s no way I’ll let you into my car like this!”

Ignis paused. He had still no idea what exactly had happened. The doctor had refused to tell him anything about his condition besides the obvious fact that he had collapsed during training. 

He took a moment to self-reflect, and found that he did indeed feel a little gross. He was not dressed properly, and the grime, sweat and dirt from training were coating his skin. He could only speculate as to the state of his hair. And he was hungry. 

With a heavy sigh, he admitted defeat. “Fine. I’ll go take a shower and make something to eat. By then it should be an acceptable hour for visits. Can I invite you for breakfast?”

Gladio gave him a very odd look at the question. “You cooking yourself or getting something from the kitchens?”

“Myself,” he answered. “Why?”

“Nothing. I think I’ll take you up on the offer.”

With that, they made their way up through the Citadel towards Ignis apartment. He left Gladio to make some calls and headed for the bathroom. One look in the mirror confirmed that the shower was indeed a very good idea. 

His hair was a mess, there was dirt and gravel from the training courtyard clinging to him, and a very impressive bruise decorated the left side of his neck. He wondered where that had come from. Maybe his fall? He shrugged to himself. A question for another time. 

He got dressed in some of his more comfortable clothes, and found Gladio rummaging through his fridge, pulling out random things.

“Looking for something?”

The other turned around at lightning speed, wiping a hand on his trousers and grinning sheepishly. “Just checking if you had some snacks hidden away. I’m starving. Anyway, can I help with anything?”

They prepared breakfast together, and after cleaning the kitchen, it was almost seven, and Ignis would go to see Noctis now either with or without Gladio, which he made very clear. 

The confusion he had felt for the first minutes after waking up had died down, still there, but now accompanied by worry and the desperate need to _do_ something. 

During the entire ride through the city, he felt the anticipation and nervousness building up inside his chest. He had no idea what to expect. He was worried. He hoped Noctis hadn’t _actually_ fired him. Or rather the king. The whole ordeal of not knowing made him jittery, and he tried to keep his nerves down.

When they reached the door of Noctis apartment, he was greeted by Crowe, Libertus being stationed downstairs in the lobby. Both offered him a sorry smile and condolences, and they quietly agreed that firing him was a stupid idea and that the ‘royal morons’ would come to regret it soon enough. 

Ignis let himself in without thinking, and Gladio patted him on the shoulder, tactfully deciding to stay outside for whatever conversation Ignis and Noctis apparently needed to have. 

To his infinite surprise, Noctis was indeed awake, standing at the end of the hall, staring like a chocobo in headlights. “Good morning, Your Highness. You wanted to speak with me?” Ignis said, hoping to sound more relaxed than he was currently feeling. 

Noctis face went from surprise to something like shock, and then… dismay? It was hard to name, but there was no doubt that the prince was decidedly _not happy_ to see him. 

Before Ignis could try to decipher this, Noctis turned around with a scowl and waved over his shoulder for Ignis to follow into the living room. “Ignis. Good to see you are back on your feet. I hadn’t expected you so early.” Noctis voice was a mixture of bored and annoyed, like it was when talking about council meetings or schoolwork. Like he sounded when he was forced to do his chores. Not in the least happy to see him. 

The dread was coiling up in Ignis’ chest once more. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this. To be brushed off like this. Like talking to him was a bother. 

Still, he followed hesitantly into the living room. Where he came face to face with an equally confused Acutis. Right. He was still filling in. 

“Scientia. I’d heard you were in the hospital? Are you alright?”

“Acutis. I can assure you, I am fine. The doctor dismissed me a few hours ago.”

There was a brief, awkward silence that stretched on for a few seconds as the three stared at each other. Finally, Acutis took a step back, saying “I’ll just be… Ah, I’ll go make something to drink…? Yea, I’ll do that,” and he retreated quickly into the kitchen.

The fact that the kitchen was integrated into the living room lessened the effect of this somewhat, but Noctis waved him over into his small study corner on the far side, where the distance was enough to grant some privacy.

Acutis also pointedly avoided looking at them, keeping his back turned towards them. 

Ignis took the offered seat at the table across from Noctis, who was looking at him with a deep frown, across the many papers strewn about between them. From the look of it, they were… resumes? He recognized the format and skimmed across a few lines, but Noctis quickly swept them up and hid them in a folder, pushing it aside. 

“So, Ignis, I assume this is about your dismissal from my services. There is of course the two week notice period, but your suspension is still in effect until the day after tomorrow and I am worried about your health, so should you wish to take a vacation I will of course grant it.” Noctis spoke in quick, clipped sentences, like he was reading bullet points off a list. 

Now Ignis was utterly confused. It sounded like he was fired after all. The panic began to swell up inside him. This couldn’t be it, could it? But what about the ciphered note? 

“Noctis, I-“ he tried to speak up. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he was immediately interrupted.

“I will of course make sure that my father writes you an outstanding recommendation. We both appreciate everything you have done in your years here in the Citadel, but I think I speak for my father as well as for myself when I say that your repeated breakdowns in the past few weeks are not only worrying us on a personal level, but also compromise your ability to perform to your fullest, and with the importance of your position we simply cannot afford to send you on prolonged vacation, especially since there is no apparent reason for them.”

Ignis listened, too dumbstruck to even consider interjecting, as Noctis put every doubt he’d had about himself in these past weeks into words. 

“I’m really sorry it had to come to-” Noctis briefly trailed off, head jerking up the slightest bit, eyes widening, before he continued, ”-this. Please don’t ever doubt my appreciation for everything you did for me. If you have any questions, I’d gladly answer them _later_.” There was an odd stress on the last word, bringing Ignis back to attention. 

He looked closely at Nocts face, and saw that there was… something underlying in his expression. He looked like he was trying to be casual, but there was a frantic energy emanating from him now, and he seemed nervous for some reason. _Fear_ , he realized. 

“Noctis, allow me a question: Are _you_ alright?” His behaviour had gone from odd to confusing to borderline worrying, and something about this whole situation made the alarm bells in Ignis’ head go off. 

Noctis got out a confused “Um, yea, I guess, wasn’t me at the hospital-“ before they got interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, this one is a little shorter because it fought me tooth and nail and eventually I conceded. The next one will make up for it anyway ;)


	12. Noctis

Noctis didn’t even think about going to sleep that night. He didn’t want to, not without knowing that Ignis was awake. He doubted he could have slept _if_ he wanted to. The emotions swirling around in his head and his chest had lessened a little in their intensity, making room for overthinking.

His mind was running circles, and he noticed he was becoming more paranoid as the hours progressed. He even looked at Crowe and Libertus with suspicion as they showed up for duty at his door, although he quickly dismissed them as potential suspects. They were too good to leave evidence like this. 

So Noctis went to work. It was late in the evening, and he was given more than a few odd looks by the people he encountered. He had to be careful to not overdo it, because his plan was still to act somewhat normal, but there was no denying the fact that these were unusual circumstances, and he hoped people would not question it too much. Sitting around was just not an option. 

At least his earlier ploy had worked out nicely: People had seen him carry the terminated contract to the hospital, and the rumours spread like wildfire. Iciar helped with some tactically placed off-handed comments, and by the time he left Ignis for the second time, the whole building had confirmation. He also noticed with a bemused satisfaction that there were _a lot_ of pointed glares coming his way after that.

After leaving Ignis and Gladio, having handed the contracts over, he recruited Iris to go through the medical books and databases, asking her to compile a list with soluble neurotoxins available in Insomnia, be they synthetic or natural. 

Then he phoned Monica, asking for her help in creating a list of all the employees inside the Citadel during the last week. If Ignis breakdowns were indeed related to each other, they could compare the incidents against the alibis of the people who had possible access to foods, drinks, rooms etc. 

There had been four incidents Noctis knew of: The first time in his kitchen, the second time the day after during their preparation of the new security plan (although that one was debatable, it might have been an aftereffect, related to overexertion or simply a misstep, as Ignis had claimed), the third time a day after _that_ , just before the gala, and the fourth time during training with Gladio.

It would be tedious work, and figuring out the poison beforehand would help tremendously. If they knew how long the substance would need to take effect, they could narrow it down significantly, especially if Ignis could retrace his steps on these days. 

For once, Noctis was thankful for the envoys and the strengthening of the security measures on behalf of their visits. Entry and exit from the Citadel had been recorded thoroughly during those days, and with the exclusion of the general public and non-needed personnel taking the opportunity to take a vacation it already cut the list down significantly. 

Still, Noctis estimated the number of people present to be low in the four-digit numbers at least. And if they were dealing with a group and not a single culprit, which was honestly very likely, suspects needed to have complete alibis on all four days to be ruled innocent. 

After receiving the list, he got a message from his father, telling him that the bottle Noctis had brought in earlier had been tested for fingerprints, and that the only ones on it came from Ignis and Noctis. He had expected that much, but he couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. The bottle was also being tested for chemicals, but that would take a little more time. 

After receiving the employee list on an USB, Noctis decided to head back to his apartment for the evening, to work in silence and keep up a semblance of a normal routine. 

It was odd to come into his rooms. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and that normalcy just felt wrong after what had happened today. Ignis had nearly died, and yet here, it was like the events of the day hadn’t happened at all. The dishes were still in the sink, some papers were scattered across the desk, an open bag of snacks was lying on the couch table. It felt off. 

It felt like he could go to sleep, and in the morning Ignis would be there to drag him out of bed with the day already planned out fully. Slowly, Noctis realized that if he hadn’t decided to go over to the Citadel on a _fucking whim_ today, he would have been sitting here, bored out of his mind, when the call would have come through. Maybe it would have been his father, maybe it would have been Gladio. _Ignis is dead_. Just like that. 

He finally allowed the thought to sink in, just a little. Looking at his stained fingernails, he decided to remove the evidence of his discovery, both to keep the secret of the Lucis’s poison resistance safe and to erase the reminder of the stress. 

He repainted them immediately, and in a sudden moment of clarity a new idea formed in his head, and he threw his laptop into his bag together with some of Ignis spare clothing that he kept around in case he stayed overnight or ruined something in the kitchen, and got his new Glaives to take him back to the Citadel.

He had briefly considered taking Carbunkle with him as well, but that would have been too obvious, and besides, he wasn’t sure the little creature would be okay with being handed around like that. 

Back at the Citadel, he made a show of going to his own rooms, and then snuck quietly into the hospital, like he had done in the previous week. Crowe knew his favourite hidden corridors anyway, and it being late helped tremendously, so they arrived completely unnoticed, unannounced and surprised even Gladio, who had a sword out before he recognized Noctis. 

Noctis told Crowe to wait outside, and instructed Gladio on the use of the nail polish. It was more for investigational purposes than actual protection, since Ignis would be safe for quite a while, but if the culprit(s) tried again, they would otherwise not recognize the attempt. 

He then stayed together with Gladio for a few more hours, going through the list of names. They could dismiss a surprising amount of people outright. By comparing the shifts of the guards and servants against the timeframe a few hours before each incident against each other, most of them turned out to have solid alibis.

The people who ranked low where generally accounted for, if not by their superiors, then by their colleagues on the same shift. It was the people higher up in the ranks that were most suspicious, and unfortunately that made A) a lot of sense because they were mostly involved to some degree with the nitty-gritty of politics and would certainly find ways to profit from the incident, and B) also meant that these were the people with station and power and he had to tread more careful here. 

They could of course not entirely dismiss the Ambassadors as at least partly guilty, but they had all been (politely) restricted in their movements inside the Citadel. Plus, they had only been present during the incident of the gala party, so they would have needed a mole in any case, which brought them back to their own staff. 

After a while Iris joined them, bringing with her a book that listed neurotoxins, and she had the list of possible substances narrowed down to about a dozen narcotics. The problem was that quite a few of them could in theory be gathered from plants, and the black market surely would find a way to provide any of these, so that was basically a dead end. 

The only merit the list offered was the timeframes it took from ingestion to effects: a maximum of around two hours. That in return diminished the list of suspects. It was the middle of the night by the time they had that breakthrough.

It also brought up a new problem: The third breakdown in particular gave him pause. They had been in his rooms for almost the whole afternoon, so how someone would have poisoned Ignis in that time without them noticing was a mystery he couldn’t unravel.

By now the fatigue started to slowly set in, and Noctis decided to head home and try to sleep a little. He was finally tired from the events of the day, and it was necessary to keep up appearances. Besides, he would be useless of he was tired.

He sent the list of names back to his father, and asked if he could subtly have information on these people delivered. He tried to sleep for at least a few hours, but it eluded him. He briefly dozed off, but every sound in his apartment felt overly loud. 

As soon as the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds, he got back up and back to work. He had the resumes of their primary suspects delivered to him by Ulric himself, who looked displeased to be reduced to a delivery boy.

The file, or rather the folder, held the profiles of at least eighty people. Noctis hoped to gain some insight into possible motivations through their background information, singling out especially those who had no family or were in a bad financial situation. There were also a lot of people who worked either in or for the council, as those could possibly benefit from an open position in the spot of royal advisor. 

Noctis was so engrossed in his papers that he barely noticed the door opening. It was only when he was greeted with a cheery “Good morning, Your Highness!” that he properly registered Acutis in his living room. Was it already time for his shift?

Indeed, a glance to the clock told Noctis it was already seven, almost time for school. He hadn’t had breakfast or done any of his homework, and he was seriously debating with himself to call in sick for the day. He was fairly sure nobody would object, given the circumstances. And the only people who had to know where Crowe, Libertus and Acutis.

“Mornin,” he mumbled back, barely glancing up. “I probably won’t be going to school today, so you don’t have to drive. If you have paperwork for me, you can leave it on the desk.”

Acutis dutifully put some folders down, before stepping a little closer. “Do you need me to phone the school for you?” he asked. 

Noctis just gave a nod. It was surprising how easy it was to get out of school or work with Acutis around. Ignis would have never let that slide.

“May I ask… Are you feeling unwell, Your Highness? Or is this related to the unfortunate incident with Scientia? I heard he was admitted to the hospital yesterday?” Acutis asked softly. 

Noctis just shrugged, not wanting to go over the past day again in too much detail. Or at all. He was slowly coming to truly understand what had almost happened, and it terrified him.

There was a pause. “Is it true that he has been dismissed from your service?”

Noctis paused. Narrowed his eyes at Acutis, who was currently setting up to make tea. It was somewhat of a routine they had established over the past week, to get accustomed to each other’s presence before they started their workday together. 

Maybe it was the paranoia finally getting the better of him. But there was no denying the fact that Acutis was on his list. And, Noctis realized with sudden clarity, it made sense. 

Acutis would definitely benefit from Ignis’ removal. As of now, he was basically next in line for the job, at least until someone better could be found. 

Noctis quickly went through the scenarios in his head, mentally ticking of checkboxes. 

The first day, Ignis had come from the security meeting. Where Acutis had definitely been as well. 

The second day, Acutis had been _there_. It was a little odd that the second incident had been the mildest in that case, but that was a mystery for another time. 

The third day, Noctis couldn’t say. He had met Acutis at the gala, and he had almost certainly been there way early, to help set up, like the ‘waiters’ were supposed to. Plus, Ignis had been with Noctis all day. 

And on the fourth day, yesterday, Acutis had been with him all the time. _No, not all the time_ , he thought. He had dismissed Acutis when he had arrived at the laboratory. Around ninety minutes before Ignis had been admitted. Ninety minutes in which Acutis was for all intents and purposes unaccounted for. 

And the weird pause of five days between the incidents… Days in which Acutis had been all but glued to his side.

So there had been opportunity. But was there a motive? Acutis had a pretty decent job, and he was up for promotion next year. Why risk that by committing murder? Just to have the _chance_ to get promoted as royal advisor instead? The position was nowhere guaranteed to go to him, and Acutis surely knew that. 

Besides, the two had been friends for years. Only that they addressed each other with last names. Only that they didn’t have each other’s phone number saved. Only that Acutis seemed to not care at all that Ignis was at the hospital. 

It was a theory at best. Not even that, a gut feeling. But Noctis would be damned if he didn’t consider the possibility. He knew he couldn’t just have the guy arrested. If he was wrong, he would not only reveal that they knew about the attempted murder to the whole Citadel, he would also accuse one of Ignis’ friends and a high ranking member of the council on false charges. If he was right…

He slowly got up, trying to act casual. He would just quickly step outside to phone his father and ask a few questions, and if push came to shove he could call Libertus and Crowe to his protection. _If_ Acutis was involved, they needed proof. Right now, the guy had no reason to suspect being suspected, and Noctis intended to keep it that way until he had enough backup. 

Of course the moment he stepped into the hall was the moment Ignis decided to show up. Fuck. 

The two of them stared at each other for a few long seconds. Noctis was practically frozen in place as he tried to decide on a course of action. He needed time to think. There was no time to think. 

In hindsight, he should have probably expected this. He should have known, with all the precedence they had, that Ignis would read the _as soon as possible_ and take it as a _as soon as you are no longer actively dying_. Six, that man really needed to learn to take a break.

Ignis looked… normal. He looked like he did everyday showing up to work. Well, not exactly. He was clearly distressed, nerves showing in the way he hung back in the doorway, looking at Noctis with confusion, clearly hoping for answers. There was a tension in his shoulders, and his hand was fidgeting with the zipper on the pocket of his jacket. There was a bit of paper sticking out. 

Ignis broke the silence with a subdued greeting, and Noctis immediate priority shifted to _get Ignis to shut up and not talk about anything that Acutis wasn’t supposed to know_. So he turned away from the conversation and waved Ignis inside, talking about the dismissal in his business-voice and hoping that Ignis would get the message once he saw Acutis standing there. 

He briefly considered asking Ignis to come back another time, but they really needed to talk, and Acutis had only come to pick Noctis up for school. Since he wasn’t going, Acutis had no reason to hang around, and Noctis hoped he would take the overly loud talk about work contracts as the hint it was and scram. 

Acutis did not take the hint. Instead, after the three stared at each other for a few moments, he fled into the kitchen to finish whatever he had been doing there, and Noctis had to resort to putting the entire length of the room between them to continue his talk. 

He was feeling _very_ stressed out right now. He could hear himself continuing the conversation with Ignis, trying to keep the other quiet for now, but he was going through the motions automatically, barely paying enough attention to what he was saying to keep the string of words going. 

Later, he would come up with dozens of ways he could have handled this better, as one often did, but right now he was terrified of alerting anybody to what was going on, and he simply had no time to think. 

He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. He tried to be rational. Yes, Acutis was suspicious. Yes, so were the other couple dozen people whose information was scattered out in front of him. Noctis quickly shoved the papers aside. Maybe his paranoia was finally getting the better of him. 

It didn’t help that Ignis refused to _keep quiet_! Noctis knew that his friend was confused, it was clear as day. He also could tell that their current conversation was not helping that in the slightest. 

Astrals, this was a disaster. He tried to silently convey with subtle looks that this was a conversation for another time, went as far as openly fidgeting with his watch, but Ignis seemed to miss his clues. 

Noctis was for some reason feeling close to panicking again. This whole situation felt uncomfortable to him, and he wanted out. Or to get Ignis out. He didn’t care. He decided he needed to be a bit more obvious if he wanted to get his message across. 

“I’m really sorry it had to come to-”

_*snap*_

What? What had he just heard? _Did_ he just hear something? It was such a small sound, barely audible, but it was so familiar that Noctis picked it up anyway. Where had he heard that sound before?

It was something typical to a specific situation… He’d heard it not too long ago. Nothing in his apartment made that sound. In the Citadel? Yes, in the Citadel. But where?

Last week. When he had talked to Iris. When he had snapped the little glass ampoules. Glass ampoules that contained chemicals like adrenaline, xylazin, atropine, diazepame, fentanyl…

Oh shit. 

”-this. Please don’t ever doubt my appreciation for everything you did for me. If you have any questions, I’d gladly answer them _later_.” He stressed the last word, and failed to keep his voice even. If he could walk Ignis to the door and slip out…

Why did he not have any guards _inside_?

Ignis, of course, failed to put the pieces together. “Noctis, allow me a question: Are _you_ alright?” 

Noctis could not blame him. He wasn’t sure Ignis even knew he had been poisoned. He had hoped his advisor would have suspected something, but as they say, hindsight is everything, and Noctis hadn’t clued in on anything suspicious himself before either. 

His mind was racing like crazy, and he was so startled by the turn of events that he dropped his act a little. “Um, yea, I guess, wasn’t me at the hospital-“ 

“If I may, attention please, this is hot- There you go.” Acutis placed a cup of tea in front of Noctis, and handed Ignis one with coffee. “Anything else I can get for you?”

Noctis heart hammered in his chest. He knew that theoretically, Ignis was safe, even if the coffee was poisoned. Still, the reality of the threat set him on edge. Before he could think twice about it, Noctis reached out over the table, and grabbed the coffee for himself.

Both Ignis and Acutis looked surprised as he basically lunged over the table, but none of them could even get a word in before Noctis took a big sip. Or at least pretended to. 

Ignis looked more confused than anything, but Noctis was watching Acutis’ reaction out of the corner of his eye, and so he saw the brief flicker of panic there. 

“Your Highness, if you wanted a coffee, you could have just said so,” he said with a strained voice and a forced smile, “Should I get you some?”

“I didn’t know you turned into a coffee addict in my absence, Noct,” Ignis chided. If this were a normal situation, there would be a lesson about table manners inserted here. 

Noctis forced himself to relax back into his chair, summoning a wry grin, like he had done nothing more than tease his friend a little. “Sorry, I just wanted a taste. Ignis always goes on about the stuff, and I realised I hadn’t tried yours yet,” he explained. If the others thought the reasoning odd, they didn’t comment on it. “Still tastes awful, if you ask me,” he added. 

He watched the drop he had spilled over the rim run down the side of the mug and caught it with his thumb. So far, so good. They were still staring at him, and it took an immense amount of willpower and rationalizing that literally nothing could happen to hand the cup back to Ignis. 

Noctis watched him take a (real) sip and involuntarily tensed up, immediately making the conscious effort to look at ease. He pulled his tea a little closer, using the cup to hide his hand from view, making it look like he was gazing into the steam, whilst he waited the few seconds it took to- there. The blueish black colour was creeping up slowly but surely. 

Great. 

Later, Noctis would be the first to admit that his next move was far from the smartest he could have made in this situation. 

He sat up straighter, made a motion to take a sip of the tea, and asked in his best casual voice, like he was inquiring about the weather, “Say, Acutis, is there a specific reason you tried to poison Ignis?”

Acutis froze. Ignis froze. Noctis tensed up, ready to leap up from his chair and fight. He then realized he was basically sitting against the wall. Acutis was to his side, standing, with the whole room behind him to manoeuvre, but out of his reach, and if this was going to escalate into violence he was literally backed into a corner. Like a bloody idiot. 

It took them all a moment to process the new situation. Acutis reacted first. He apparently decided that he could not talk his way out of this, and that was the final proof Noctis needed. 

Acutis’ hand shot up, flicking his wrist, something small and shiny flew in Noctis direction, and he instinctively flinched and got his hands up to protect himself. Thankfully the throwing knife went wide, whizzing past his head and colliding with the wall before clattering to the floor. 

But the distraction was all Acutis needed to bolt down the hall and out the door. There was shouting as he surprised Gladio and Crowe outside, but from the sounds of it they didn’t stop him. 

In the meanwhile, Ignis had jumped up, chair hitting the floor as the force tipped it back, and he summoned his daggers instinctively. One embedded itself into the wall of the hallway, where Acutis had just vanished, the other was brought up protectively as Ignis stepped around the table with one fluid motion and positioned himself infront of Noctis, keeping him from giving chase. “Noctis, what-?” he got out, but then Gladio and Crowe burst into the room, weapons drawn. 

“Are you alright Noctis?” they shouted, scanning the room. 

Later, Noctis would think about this and realize that they had followed protocol to the t and there was no reason to blame them for anything. They couldn’t have known what went down inside prior to Acutis sprinting past them, and his safety was of course their priority. 

Now, he was angry that apparently none of them were chasing after a murderer. “Don’t let him get away!” he shouted, but he knew they wouldn’t catch up with him now. Their only chance was Libertus in the lobby, but there was also a back door that lead outside, and if Acutis still had his wits about him he would take that. 

Noctis pushed past them and sprinted to the balcony, looking down six floors onto the narrow strip of lawn that surrounded the building before it was cut up by the street and the maze of back alleys behind it. 

Later, he would think about it and realize that Acutis had absolutely no way to really escape. Insomnia was surrounded by the wall, and each and every exit was watched. Acutis had nothing on him. They would have found him eventually. 

Now, he saw the back door a little further down the building fly open and a figure sprinting across the lawn. He saw the guy getting away. He saw him running to his accomplices and setting an alternate plan into motion. 

He saw the man who very nearly killed Ignis. His fury flared up hotter than ever before.

To his credit, Noctis remembered to push the emergency button on his watch before he stepped back, took a running start and threw himself off the balcony. 

He was already reaching into the Armiger as he leapt. Without much thinking, he decided on a javelin, hurdling it towards his target the same moment he pushed off the railing, tiny crystals shrouding the weapon and leaving a thin trail of brilliant blue behind.

Later, he would get told off by so many people for this. In fact, he would not hear the end of it for a little over a year; how stupid he was to forget that he had yet to learn to properly warp-strike.

The weapon impacted, and Noctis was pulled along that trail as it collapsed, the magic constricting like a rubber band and taking him with it. He felt the rush and the brief sensation of being somewhere _else_ , before he collided with a body and they both tumbled. Acutis was sprawled on the floor, the javelin impaled in his heel, pinning him to the ground. 

Later, Noctis would learn that the weapon had cut the achilles tendon and that Acutis could not have gotten further if he wanted to. 

Now, he planted his own foot firmly on the other man’s back, between the shoulder blades, and pushed him down using his own weight, simultaneously reaching into the Armiger again. 

The javelin disappeared in a spark, being dismissed as Noctis pulled out his trusted engine blade and clasped the handle with both hands, resting the tip between Acutis fourth and fifth neck vertebrae and pushing down just enough to draw some blood. 

The other was still disoriented with the fall, but the feeling of cold steel was apparently recognizable enough, and the feeble attempts to squirm out from under Noctis boot ceased. 

“Care to explain yourself?” Noctis hissed, increasing the pressure on the blade ever so slightly. 

He couldn’t make out Acutis face, it was pressed to the ground and covered by the loose hair that escaped his ponytail during his attempted escape, but the venom in the voice was unmistakable. “That fucking bitch had it coming for a long while. I was basically doing you a favour!”

It was probably only thanks to Libertus running up behind him, shouting his name that Noctis didn’t completely forget himself. He was so furious he couldn’t even speak anymore, whole body shaking. He had never known it was possible to cry from anger, but his rapidly blurring vision stated otherwise. It was an odd sensation. Before he couldn’t see properly anymore, Noctis drew the blade up and away. 

Then he forced it down into the soft ground as deep as he could. If Acutis hand was in the way, that was not his problem. 

Noctis took his boot off the traitors back as he started screaming and squirming with the pain, and Libertus finally caught up to him, pulling him away with a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. 

The Glaive looked over Acutis, leg bleeding, pinned to the floor by the sword, and gave a stern nod. There was no pity in his voice, nor any attempt to reprimand Noctis. “Nice warp-strike. Impressive that you managed to immobilize him at that distance.”

Noctis shrugged the hand off, turning and starting to head back to the building. “I wasn’t aiming for his legs.”

He hoped he would never have to waste as much as a single thought on the guy ever again. 

He made his way straight back up, forgoing the elevator in favour of the stairs. It wouldn’t take long for the emergency backup to arrive, and he _really_ needed to have a word with Ignis before that happened. He could already hear the cars pull up outside, people shouting short words and sentences to coordinate.

He ran into Gladio on the way up, his Shield clearly furious, but Noctis dismissed him with a stern ‘you can shout at me later’ look. Ignis was still standing in the middle of the room, fiddling with his dagger, arguing quietly with Crowe about something. 

They both looked at Noctis as he stepped back in. “Crowe, please close the door on your way out,” he ordered. When the door finally shut, he turned to Ignis. And found he didn’t quite know what to say. 

Ignis gave him a questioning lookTM, with one eyebrow raised just so, arms crossed and head tilted to the side ever-so-slightly. Noctis knew that one. It’s the ‘explain yourself right now or pray the Astrals have mercy on you’ stare. 

Noctis wanted to explain. He had to explain. There was just so much, and he could already hear the people approaching in the hallway. So he did the next best thing: He stepped up to Ignis, crushed him in a hug. “I’m so, so sorry, Ignis. I really am. I’ll explain later, I promise! As soon as I can!”

It took a moment before he could feel an arm wrap around him in return, pulling him slightly closer. “Alright. But it better be a very good explanation,” Ignis muttered, letting out a sigh in defeat. 

“I’m so glad you are here, Iggy,” and Noctis didn’t only mean that in the immediate sense of the statement. 

“Me too,” came the answer, and judging from the serious, quiet tone Ignis had understood what he’d meant. “…Do I need to get a new cup of coffee?”

Noctis couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Yea, that’ll probably be best.” They separated again, and then way too many people started to flood his apartment, and Noctis had to lock himself in the bathroom and call his father because he had no idea what he was supposed to tell them without giving away too much information.

When he emerged again, he could see the people congregating around his couch, where Ignis is sat with a new cup of coffee, looking livid and berating them for something or other. As he noticed Noctis, he got up and met him in the entrance to the room, putting both his hands on Noctis’ shoulders. “Good luck,” was all he said, before walking past.

“Iggy! Where are you going?” Noctis shouted after him.

His friend turned around, gesturing towards all the hubbub surrounding them. “If I recall right, I’m still suspended, and also fired. Meaning whatever this is, it’s not my problem. You can deal with this mess on your own, because I have no idea what is happening, and I frankly can’t be bothered right now. You’re on your own in this. I’m going home. You can come by later. Bye.” He smiled at Noctis, first with genuine warmth, and then with an air of delight at Noctis’ upcoming misfortune. And with that, he just…left. 

Noctis stared after him in absolute disbelief. The people who had overheard stared as well, until finally Gladio spoke up. “No one is ever going to believe us when we tell them he actually said that.” Noctis could only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it finally is, the chapter that started this all. It's really hard to believe that we are almost at the end. I hope you'll join me next week for the grand finale.


	13. Acutis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Timewise, this chapter belongs somewhere in the middle of chapter 14, but for various reasons I decided to post this first. To avoid confusion, just note that it has been around two weeks since chapter 12, and chapter 14 will take place before this one (at least at the beginning).

He didn’t know how long he’d been here. It was difficult to tell. The room was simple, four bare walls, a small bed, a toilet and a sink, a table with a moderately comfortable chair. For a holding cell, it wasn’t bad. But for an extended stay, it was a little drab. 

Not that they had treated him inhumanely. After his arrest, they had his injuries checked and treated. He wasn’t given potions or elixirs, and he probably wouldn’t be walking without a crutch soon, which would be difficult because his hand had been nearly cleaved in two and would take even longer to heal than his leg, and even then it would never be the same. 

He’d gotten regular meals that were acceptable in quality, he could shower every day and if he’d had anybody to call, he’d been allowed to do so. 

But he didn’t have calls to make, and so the only people he’d spoken to in a while were the officers and detectives and whatever they called themselves. In regular intervals, he’d be dragged from his cell and put into an interrogation room, and they’d ask the same questions over and over and over again. 

“Who are you working for?” “Why did you do this?” “How did you do this?” “What was your goal?”

He’d answered them all truthfully, but it took many repetitions until they started believing him.

He was working for the king and Insomnia. He did it because no one else would see. He did it the only way he knew how. His goal was to protect their prince. 

He hadn’t planned for it all to escalate like this. That had been an unfortunate turn of events.

It had been a spontaneous notion, at first, truth be told. He’d always kept a careful eye on that Scientia guy. How he strode around the Citadel like he owned the place. Spoke up to anybody who didn’t share his opinion. Used his influence on the prince to get his way. 

When they started talking, by pure chance, he’d slowly started to see just how deep that influence ran. That man took so many matters in his own hands without asking. He had complete control over the timetable of the prince. Used it to show up in the meetings instead of His Highness to further his own agenda. Repeatedly confessed to Acutis just how much he was involved in forming the habits and opinions on their future king, complaining like it was a burden. Confessed how he would force the prince to meetings and events he didn’t want to attend. The list was long.

And then, that one evening some time ago, the bitch had strutted into the kitchens and casually admitted to overstepping his boundaries yet again. Maybe it had been the casual air in which the confession had been made, maybe it had been the way he’d asked for help like _he_ had been the one wronged. 

Acutis hadn’t really intended to harm him. It was a rather spontaneous decision, a plan formed in under thirty minutes. He had his own plants in the greenhouse, to make his brews. And he knew that some of them needed careful preparation in order to be edible, like pufferfish or cashews or kidney beans. 

He really had just intended to teach the prick a lesson when he prepared the thermos cans with coffee and maybe added the unprepared ground up roots of a particular plant of the nightshade family. And so maybe these roots were inedible in any state and he had no good reason to have them around in any case. So what?

It’s not like anybody would notice. Exhaustion was clearly visible on the other’s face, and why would anybody even start to suspect anything unusual when they had a perfect excuse in the form of overexertion? People more often than not tended to stick to the convenient solutions to their problems. It was incredible how much some were willing to overlook even in the presence of clear evidence. 

He’d felt bad enough about it by the time they went to the meeting. Not because Scientia didn’t deserve what he had coming. But now His Highness would not receive the report in time, if Acutis had calculated right. So he’d reluctantly shared his file in the hope that the prince would not suffer from his impulse decision. 

During the meeting, he was kind of disappointed. Scientia sipped the coffee like it was a fine aged whiskey, and although Acutis could watch him become somewhat uncomfortable, he did not drop like he had hoped. In the end that was a good thing, because Pignus Fiducia was a fool, Acutis knew that, but he had spoken out against him once too often before and was on the verge of being let go by the man. 

Some people were just too stuck up thinking in their old, stuffy routines to appreciate a good idea when it was presented. Pignus had always rejected his proposals, too afraid to admit that he was long overdue for retirement, and that his secretary should have taken over some time ago. Acutis did most of the work anyway. So he got Scientia to say the piece in his stead, watched that detested man get the praise for _his_ idea, when the incompetent fool failed to see such an obvious point on his own. He was fine with it so long as it served the crown. Pignus noticed anyway. 

He’d had to hide his smirk as the idiot floundered as soon as the topic came back to his own subject. He’d even forgotten his papers. What a useless piece of trash. And then he used Acutis own notes to drag himself back from the brink. 

It helped his satisfaction considerably when the king held him back at the end of the meeting. Surely there would be some repercussions. 

With all the preparations for the envoys, Acutis had almost forgotten about it by the next day. Until Scientia came back into the kitchens, looking none the worse for wear, followed by that overly jittery Argentum. 

He was almost annoyed, until he found out that apparently the prince himself had sent for him after reading his report. He tried to play humble, but internally he was delighted. The prince himself had read his report and had recognized his genius, and now he was asked for his input! That was the opportunity to get the poor kid to see some reason, get some information that was not pre-filtered by the advisor. So of course he obliged.

And so he found himself in the royal chambers. Scientia had showed him around the kitchen like it was _his_ place. Acutis had known that the guy used his influence to for personal gain, but the way he preened and showed off the coffee machine angered Acutis, even more so when he had the gall to outright admit that the prince didn’t even touch the thing. 

That gave him the idea for his plan. The prince appreciated Acutis ideas. If he could somehow continue to prove his own value, whilst simultaneously removing Scientia from the bigger picture…

So he took the offer to operate the coffee machine and used it to subtly slip some more of the poison into the grinder. It was a closed off compartment, and nobody would open it until it was time to refill, and by then the proof would be gone already. It was almost too simple.

But Scientia had insisted to refrain from coffee today. He couldn’t lace the tea without risking injury to the other people, and he really did not want that, so he settled for coating the rim of cup. 

They got to work on his plans, and he was overjoyed to finally have his efforts acknowledged, as they unanimously decided to use his idea. Ironically, Scientia would do the hard work for him, which made his day infinitely better yet. 

It was very satisfying to watch the fool stagger into the doorframe, and from the reactions of the others he gleefully deduced that apparently the thermos from yesterday had had an effect after all. He could work with that. Splendid. 

He was in a great mood as he left that day. 

It unfortunately didn’t last. The following evening, he was personally recruited by none other than Cor the Immortal to oversee the distribution of the new undercover guards. The plan had been adapted on rather short notice, and since Acutis knew it better than anyone, they wanted him there to work out the finer details and adapt to new situations as the evening progressed. He didn’t mind the uniform and the serving of the guests too much. He was given responsibility and he would damn well make sure they saw how seriously he took it. 

He noticed that Scientia didn’t show up until almost nine. 

It wasn’t until after the gala that things escalated. He’d made a detour to his greenhouse, because he had used up all of his roots and needed some more on hand, in case he was presented a new opportunity. 

The plant he wanted was not far from his own tea plants. It had started growing there as a small weed, probably imported from Accordio together with the new saplings he’d ordered all those years ago. He hadn’t seen it at first, hidden behind the bigger plants, and by the time it had grown enough to be noticeable it had already displayed these beautiful flowers, so he’d just left it there to appreciate it. 

It wasn’t until much later that he had finally identified it as a member of the nightshade family; one that contained significant levels of atropine on top of that. 

He’d kept it around. 

He was sure no one else ever noticed, or if they did, they weren’t bothered. It was a stroke of very bad luck that in the night after the gala, he was spotted by a woman as he dug up the earth to pull some roots from the plant. 

It was even worse luck that she apparently knew enough about botanics to recognize a poisonous plant among tea plans, and she called out a concerned warning, if he knew that this one was dangerous?

He’d panicked, like a kid found with the hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, and he’d just put his hand over her mouth to shush her. Not his fault she started struggling. Not his fault that she was about to scream. Not his fault that she didn’t stop fighting until he’d pushed her head into a water barrel for several minutes. Then she was finally quiet. Dead, he realized. 

He’d wrapped the body in a tarp and took her into the basement through the spiderweb of service passageways that ran hidden through the entire Citadel like veins. Found a forgotten storage room full of centuries old wine and dust, and stuffed her behind a box. To his infinite dismay, a waiter decided that one of the centuries old bottles was exactly what was needed that night. Oh well. So he put him there too. 

The next morning, he got a call from the king and was briefly convinced he had been found out, but luck was indeed on his side as he was simply asked to fill in for a suddenly absent Scientia. When his entry into the prince’s apartment sent the other man rushing out, it felt like he had won. He gladly devoted himself to the task. 

He was shocked to find out just how helpless the prince was on his own. He couldn’t get through the simplest of reports, had no idea how to plan his own schedule, was unable to cook for himself when he returned to his apartment, asked for help and opinions on the simplest of subjects… The list went on. Scientia had made His Highness so dependent on him in all situations, it was a miracle nobody else had seen this before. 

He was even more shocked to find out just how much influence the guy had. Noctis wanted to visit. To ‘hang out’. The poor kid was so dependent he didn’t even notice how he was used. 

He had to do something about this. The suspension wold be over in two days, and he wasn’t sure he’d managed to leave enough of an impression to prompt a change of mind in His Highness. He hadn’t seen Scientia either, except for one short encounter in the kitchen, but he had nothing left. After the disaster in the greenhouse, he hadn’t dared to go back, deciding to lay low for a while. He was just contemplating to venture there once more when he was given a sign by the Astrals themselves. 

In the laboratory, he started to look around out of curiosity, and his eye immediately caught on a small open cardboard package. _Atropine_. There were glass ampoules neatly lined up inside, a few already missing, and he didn’t think twice about pocketing three of them. In an even more fortunate turn of events, the prince dismissed him almost immediately after.

He knew Scientia was supposed to be on the training grounds. On his way there, he prepared for all kinds of scenarios, making up the excuses he would present if anybody asked him about his business there.

In the end, he didn’t need any of them. Scientia was sparring with the Shield in a small open courtyard outside the actual training hall, both way too distracted to notice him as he stood behind a pillar supporting the roof of the walkway connecting the surrounding buildings. 

It took him exactly thirteen seconds until he put the water bottle back, disappearing inside the main building without a soul even noticing him. No one ever paid attention to him, and sometimes it was indeed a blessing. 

He didn’t have to wait long for results. He heard the chatter, he got a few messages from his informants. 

He had researched the effects of atropine ages ago, but he hadn’t expected the synthetic stuff to outclass his plants this much. From what he heard, it was a miracle the guy survived, and although he was first annoyed at the revelation, the scenario played out in his favour as he heard the news about the pink slip.

This was _great_. He wouldn’t have minded the guy dead, but the humiliation of failure combined with Acutis taking over, taking this fucking job for himself and finally getting the recognition he deserved, whilst Scientia would be reduced to the shadows, watching from the side-lines without ever knowing… It was too good. 

Cue the irritation when the fucking asshole walks into the apartment the next day looking none the worse for wear. Nevermind the audacity of being alive, no, he seemed to be right back to his usual self. No sign the poison had even made a dent in his self-absorbed attitude. 

At least the prince seemed to finally see reason, as he quickly wrapped up the necessities of the terminated contract. But Acutis wouldn’t risk it. This time, he would make sure. He had two ampoules left, and he would use them both to get this absolute nuisance removed for good. 

The prince took a sip of the coffee. This hadn’t happened before. He had been explicitly told that the prince didn’t drink coffee of his own volition. He didn’t know if that sip would be enough to have an effect. It would certainly not be enough to kill, but he couldn’t bear the thought of harming him. 

But before he could really worry about that, the prince called him out. Acutis didn’t know how he knew; they wouldn’t tell him. The way in which the prince spoke, the body language and the look in his eyes, made Acutis realize he had miscalculated. Scientia had way more influence than he ever anticipated, to the point that the crown would fight on his behalf, not the other way around like it was supposed to be. 

The throwing knife was just a distraction; he would never harm the royal family in any way. He just wanted to get away. But alas, here he was. He didn’t know how long it had been since, the cell had no windows, and neither had the corridors they let him through to interrogation. 

So he was surprised when they announced he had a visitor. 

He was not really given the option to decline, and anything to relieve his boredom was welcome, so he let the guards escort him to the visitor room, a bare square space with a chair and a camera on his side of the glass partition that divided the room in two. The other side was a lot nicer, two comfortable chairs, a rug, and a few plotted plants to look at. 

And of course, his visitor. Acutis wasn’t really surprised. He had expected him to come sooner. He was however not sure what he wanted. 

They both remained standing, staring at each other. Acutis because he had really nothing to say to the man, and Scientia didn’t seem eager to open conversation either. He had his hands clasped behind his back, looking down at Acutis with a blank expression and idle curiosity. 

It was unsettling. Acutis had expected him to start gloating, or laugh, or insult him, or _something_. But there was just this… _look_. He felt like an insect, pinned down onto a board for examination, awaiting judgement. 

He didn’t want to, but eventually Acutis felt like he had to break the silence. “What do you want?”

There was no immediate answer. No hint at emotion, a neutral expression still boring holes straight into his mind. Eventually, the other cocked his head ever so slightly. “I suppose I just wanted to confirm something for myself. People are quite at a loss about what to do with you.”

There was another stretch of silence. “How so?”

“It’s an ongoing debate, but your options are either prison or the sanatorium. They can’t quite decide. Not that it really matters.”

Acutis knew it didn’t. He had no illusions about his future. He knew he lost the fight, and Scientia had too much influence. They had all ganged up on him like a pack of rabid dogs, and whilst operating in the Citadel was easier alone, the drawback was that he had no allies of his own to call upon. 

He thought prison would be the preferable alternative. In that case, it would mean that they had to take his actions seriously, and maybe someone would look a little closer and discover what he had tried to do. Continue his legacy. 

“Not that my personal opinion counts for anything, but if you are really as insane as they claim you to be, you hide it quite well.”

“Is there a reason for your visit here or are you done now?” Acutis hissed out. He had expected some reaction, a confrontation, anything. Not this eerily calm chatter. It was unsettling.

At the question, the other finally met his gaze directly, leaning forward and planting his hands on the table in front of the partition. “There is one thing I would like to know.” The gaze was piercing, a sudden intensity that had Acutis recoiling on instinct. This was dangerous. “Tell me: What was your plan after securing a position at Noctis’ side? What did you intend to do?”

“My purpose is always to serve the crown to the best of my abilities,” he sneered. Why were they still questioning this? The irony. The audacity! As if it was _him_ abusing his powers. “Although I don’t suppose you would understand that!” he spat.

“That’s right. I don’t.” And with that, Scientia turned around and left. 

A few days later, he was tried for an impressively long list of crimes, from theft over second degree murder to high treason, and he got a lifelong prison sentence. When he arrived, the behaviour of the other inmates made him doubt it would be a terribly long time. Of course Scientia would see to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I said I was gonna post the last chapter as well, but stuff happened and I'm not sure I will actually manage. I'm going on a coffee-fueled, late-night, PMD-soundtrack induced writing extrvaganza right now, trying my best to get the last chapter finished, but I might decide to take the extra week to ensure it's a good one rather than upload fast for the sake of it.


	14. Ignis

Ignis made it into his apartment in the Citadel in record time. Record slow time, that is. First, he had gone all the way to the parking lot until he realized that he had no car keys on him, having driven there with Gladio. 

He refused to double back and ask for a ride, not only because Gladio would no doubt be busy dealing with the fallout of _whatever_ just happened (he’d have to think about that later), but also because he was maybe a little proud of his (very stylish and only a little petty revenge) exit just earlier, and he knew Noctis would laugh at him if he came back mere minutes later because he forgot he didn’t have a car. 

He luckily managed to get one of the Glaives that were still bustling about to hand a vehicle over through a combination of reasoning, his reputation and the tense aura of a very poor mood he was undoubtedly giving off right about now. Luckily, most people knew better than to test him when he was out of patience. _Most people_ , he thought. Acutis had clearly just tried… something?

And when he finally made it to the Citadel, everybody and their dog wanted to have a word with him. Ignis knew that he should be grateful for all the kind words and concern coming his way, but after he had repeated the same answers to the obvious questions more often than he cared to count, it got a little tiring. And tired he was. 

At the same time the buzzing in his blood had gotten louder again. It felt like pins and needles, thankfully not very intense, but unfortunately all over his body, especially in his fingertips and shoulders, for some reason. It was irritating. Plus, he felt mentally exhausted despite being awake for less than four hours. 

He thought about taking a nap, but he felt that the tingling under his skin would irritate him too much to actually fall asleep, so he settled for the next best thing and started baking. The past twenty-four hours had been stressful for everyone, and a nice chocolate cake was not only well-deserved, but also probably necessary at this point (plus he really wanted one and he decided that he damn well could have some comfort food it right about now). Besides, it would make for easier conversation if they had something to eat, and a conversation they were going to have, he would make sure of that. 

It was a lot of work, but nothing overly difficult, and he allowed his mind to wander and think about _what the hell just happened_. With what he had just witnessed, it was safe to assume that Acutis had tried to… kill him? Noctis had called him out on a poisoning scheme, and the way Acutis had reacted was a confession if Ignis had ever seen one. 

He had no idea why, but the strangest thing was that Ignis had immediately accepted it as the truth. When he saw Acutis starting his motion to throw a knife at Noctis, his subconscious had already urged Ignis to reach into the Armiger himself, his every instinct screaming _’Enemy!’_ at Acutis. 

Luckily, Acutis had missed his target. Unfortunately, so did Ignis. Then luckily again, Noctis hadn’t – although Ignis would give him a piece of his mind eventually, throwing himself off the sixth floor like that, towards a clearly hostile person. The nerve of it! That stunt alone had taken years off Ignis life, he was sure of it. 

Still, he was also a little proud of Noctis. It had been a very impressive throw. How he had known was another matter, and there was also the question of why he had waited so long to act against Acutis, but those questions would have to wait a little longer. Noctis had promised an explanation, and Ignis _had_ invited him over for later. It was only a matter of how fast Noctis could get out of the (very tight) grasp of the security personnel. 

The king would surely want to know every detail, so there was going to be a lot of questioning, and after what happened there would be a lot of people reluctant to let the prince out of their sights. But Ignis was nothing if not patient. Mostly. 

He did not have to wait as long as he had anticipated. It was shortly after noon, the cake cooling on the counter and some more chocolate melting in a small pan to prepare the frosting, when Ignis heard his front door open and close, and then shuffling footsteps approaching from behind. 

Ignis did not turn around, Noctis was the only one that would just barge in like this, and he chose to focus on his task, waiting to hear a greeting or a snarky comment. Instead, the footsteps came closer, until he felt something thump against his back, Noctis forehead coming to a rest on his shoulder. 

“Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh!”

“Very eloquent.”

There was no further commentary, but after a few seconds of internal struggle, Noctis’ arms came up to encircle him into the second hug of the day, face burrowing deeper into his shoulder. It was an unexpected gesture, and Ignis didn’t really know how to handle this situation, so he kept his attention on the stove in front of him, content to stand there in silence for a few moments. 

Until he felt the shivering behind him and heard the shuddering intake of a breath. 

Ignis froze, concern shoving everything else aside. He did not turn around, wanting to get a feel for this situation first. “Noct?” he asked softly, as if too harsh a sound could spook Noctis like a skittish animal. “What’s wrong?”

There was another shaky exhale, and then almost inaudible, “I’m sorry.”

Ignis felt himself frown. “For what?” he asked, keeping his own voice down in return.

He felt Noctis shake his head, and the hands on his shirt tightened their grip, pulling closer. It was a long moment until Noct spoke again. “Everything,” came the answer, and he sounded so… small and tired. 

The answer did not help Ignis understand anything at all. He had kept his attention focused on his cooking this entire time, hoping that his nonchalance would make it easier for Noctis to talk, but the situation seemed to be more intense than he had anticipated. 

Ignis dropped his utensils and turned sideways, putting his own arm around Noctis shoulders and squeezing him closer as well, shuffling them both around so that they were facing each other. 

Noctis was not yet crying, but he was teetering on the edge, eyes wide, shoulders hunched and trembling, looking shaken by the events of the day. Before Ignis could start to decipher the emotions any further, Noctis averted his gaze, seemingly a little embarrassed, and hid his face against his shoulder again.

“It’s fine,” Ignis murmured, trying to be reassuring.

“No it’s not!” came the answer, a half-shout that had nearly made him jump in surprise at the sudden volume. “It’s not fine,” Noctis repeated a little quieter. “You nearly died. Someone nearly killed you. _I_ …” he trailed off, and then added in a barely audible whisper, “I nearly killed someone.”

This was very clearly escalating to be a very heavy conversation, one they probably shouldn’t have standing in the middle of his kitchen. “Come on, let’s sit down for this.” He tried to (gently) pry Noctis off him, turning off the stove behind him with one hand and marching them both to the big, L-shaped sofa in his living area. 

Noctis quietly complied, pulling his legs up and hugging his knees to his chest. The bravado from earlier this morning had completely evaporated, and Ignis couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, and not only from the lack of sleep. 

“Wait here, I’m getting us something to drink,” he announced, before heading back and repurposing the molten chocolate to make hot chocolate milk. It would give them something to do whilst talking, and in the meantime Noctis would also have a chance to calm himself down a little. 

When he returned a short time later, Noctis was sitting in a more relaxed position, one leg on the floor and the other folded up underneath him, fiddling with his shoelaces. He accepted the chocolate with a quiet “Thanks,” cradling the mug with both hands and staring down at it like it held the answers to this mess. 

Ignis sat down across the corner of the sofa, so they were facing each other whilst still being close. Noctis dipped a finger into the chocolate and examined it idly, pointedly avoiding looking at Ignis. They sat in contemplative silence for a bit. It was up to Noctis to start this conversation, but there was no rush, and Ignis would patiently wait until he was ready to start speaking. 

Eventually, Noctis took a sip and sat the mug down on the table, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. 

“I _tried_ to kill him. I wanted to,” he admitted, carefully glancing at Ignis to gage his reaction. 

Ignis sighed. “So did I.” They sat in silence once more. “Would you mind telling me _why_ we were trying to kill him?” he finally asked in his best casual voice, and the absurdity of the situation made Noctis huff in equal parts amusement and exasperation. It was enough to lighten the oppressive mood a little, and Noctis started to explain the events of the previous day. 

Ignis listened with rapt attention, piecing the information he was given together with what he knew himself, occasionally throwing in a question, but mostly sitting quietly, trying to sort through this chaos. 

He was incredibly proud of how Noctis had handled the situation, not only saving his life (that was some trauma for later, he decided), but also coming up with a plan to suss out the traitors, finding _and_ apprehending them less than 24 hours later. Ignis had always thought that he and Acutis were indeed friends, but he didn’t doubt Noctis story one bit, already knowing that it was the truth. 

He felt of course betrayed, and a little sad at that, but it was all overshadowed by the sudden disappointment in himself for not noticing anything. Noctis had been in the presence of a murderer for a week! It was a relief that apparently Acutis had been after influence and not the lives of the royal family. Ignis was horrified thinking about how easy it would have been for Acutis to go after Noctis as well. 

He was also entrusted with the state secret of ‘magic nail polish’ (so that was the reason Gladio had taken his fridge apart earlier) and the ploy Noctis had used to lure the traitors out. Of course he knew that Noctis was a force to be reckoned with if he so desired, but mostly he didn’t want to be, so Ignis was always impressed when it happened. 

Ignis also felt more than apologetic about just showing up like he did, even if they both knew it had been unfortunate circumstances that led to the near-fight and nobody was to blame. 

“I’m sorry for that,” he explained to Noctis, who raised his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“Sorry for what? You couldn’t have known! Hell, I barely knew thirty seconds before you came in! If anything, _I_ should apologize for treating you like shit _again_!” 

“As you said, you didn’t know. And I could have announced myself, or picked up on your hints, or taken Gladio inside with me – speaking of, where is he?”

Noctis sighed. “I don’t blame you for anything. Really. It’s fine. And Gladio went back to the labyrinth to help with the interrogation.”

‘The labyrinth’ was a secluded part of the basements underneath the Citadel, where the previous kings had built their dungeons in centuries past. The enemies had literally been kept close at the time, so the whole complex was built to be purposefully confusing in case of a jailbreak. Nowadays, there were proper prisons outside the Citadel, but the rooms were still maintained and kept up to date for… special occasions. Like secretaries committing high treason. 

“Gladio is participating in the interrogation?” Ignis asked carefully. He wasn’t sure if that was the best idea, but he was past feeling pity for Acutis. 

But Noctis only shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s necessarily allowed to be in the room, you know, something about being ‘too involved’ as Nyx said, but I really don’t think the other Glaives will have more sympathy for the asshole. But he’ll at least watch and give me an update without censoring it,” he scoffed, and continued in a softer voice, “Do you have any idea why he did that?”

“Why he tried to kill me specifically?” A nod. Ignis had been asking himself that already, but he couldn’t come up with a definitive answer. “Not really. I guess we’ll have to wait for a confession on that part.”

“Do you think he was working for somebody?” Noctis asked, and it was an excellent question. If there were more people involved…

“I can’t say for sure. There’s nobody that comes to mind immediately, and I was always convinced that he was loyal to the crown. Then again, I also thought we were getting along, and alas…” he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll ask around and see if I can get some information from the staff. There also needs to be a thorough search of both his rooms and your apartment in the City, and I think it would be wise to have your phone checked for any unwanted tempering… Why are you laughing?”

Noctis had started chuckling midway through his explanations. “It’s just… After everything that happened – You’re just right back at it, aren’t you?” 

“Back at what?”

“You know, just…” Noctis made a vague gesture with his arms, “You being you. Trying to solve all problems on your own. There’s really no stopping you, is there?” he asked with mirth in his eyes. 

“Well, I heard that a suspension will get me to stand down for a bit, if it comes to that,” he shot back, and even though he had meant it as a joke, Noctis immediately stopped laughing and put on a more serious expression. 

“About that, Ignis…” he started, throwing his head back against the sofa with a heavy sigh. “I’m really, really sorry about that. I wanted you to take a break, and you just wouldn’t, and I was really worried, but it wasn’t fair towards you. I’m sorry. Same with your dismissal,” he explained. 

“You’re forgiven,” Ignis admitted with a genuine smile. “I wasn’t exactly being reasonable myself, and I admit that.”

There was another stretch of amicable silence as they both followed their own thoughts for a bit, before Ignis spoke up again. 

“You said that firing me was a plot to lure out the culprits, but Gladios contract was terminated as well, so what was that about?”

Noctis grinned at him. “Oh no, you are both totally fired for real!” he announced gleefully, before averting his gaze and continuing in a more serious tone, “Actually, I did that because I wanted to handle these things on my own from now on, deciding for myself who I want working for me. I mean, my father makes mostly reasonable choices, but I want to have a say in these things as well. And…” Noctis trailed off, sweeping his gaze across the room but looking at something far away, “I guess I also wanted both Gladio and you to have an out.”

Ignis frowned. “An out?”

“From your jobs,” Noctis confirmed with a small nod. “I mean, I don’t have to explain to you that your positions make you targets as well, given what happened. And I don’t want anything to happen to you, of course I don’t, but I also know that neither of you would even think about leaving if I didn’t force you to, so I thought that maybe giving you some time to consider before I offer a new contract would be wise, you know?”

“And do you want me to sign that new contract?”

Noctis shot him an angry glance. “This isn’t about what I want! What do _you_ want to do with your life? And think about your answer!”

“I really think we could save us the trouble. I’ve always been content with my position, and I’d rather not have to master a completely new skillset at this point.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Sure, like you don’t have a ridiculous skillset already. Besides, if you wanted to stay in the field, I’m sure people would be willing to fight over getting you as an assistant.”

“But I don’t like most of these other people. It would be a poor trade,” Ignis replied, sipping the chocolate. 

When he looked back up, Noctis was staring at him, lips curling into a smirk. “Aww, isn’t that nice of you to say? And I had a whole speech prepared!”

“What speech?” Ignis asked with a frown. He felt like he had stepped into a trap of sorts.

Noctis expression turned more serious again, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit since last week… I mean, I know I don’t necessarily make life easy for you sometimes,” Ignis raised an eyebrow at that, “Okay, most of the time, really. And this past week without you, I realised just how much it is you actually do, things I didn’t even notice, and I was going to be all gracious about it and offer you to get you a new position or anything, really, but…” he paused, took a deep breath and stood up, pacing back and forth as he continued. 

“I think we also both know that I would be completely lost without your help. Hell, I was _this close_ to calling you for backup during that security debriefing just now, it was awful! And if you hadn’t forced me to read through all this information before the gala, we’d probably be back at war because I would have messed it up somehow.”

Noctis took another deep breath, pressing his hands to his eyes before facing Ignis directly. “What I’m trying to say is that it hasn’t even been a week and I am honestly prepared to beg you to sign that new contract, not only because you are the best at what you do and it would be impossible to replace you, but also because you are my oldest friend and I’m too selfish to let you walk away like that,” he finished. 

And then he _bowed_. A proper, deep bow with one hand on the chest – the kind that was usually given to the king during audiences. “So please – stay.”

It took Ignis a few seconds to formulate a proper response, too taken aback by that confession. “Of course,” he got out eventually, voice slightly cracking with emotion. How could he say no to that?

Noctis stood up and grinned at him. “Great. Thanks, Iggy!” he beamed. 

“And when will I get that new contract?” Ignis asked, smiling right back. 

“Yeaaaaa… So you’ll probably have to write that yourself, because I sure as hell don’t know how to do that. And Gladios’ as well, while you’re at it.”

“And what makes you think I have any experience in writing work contracts?”

“First, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could recite your old one from memory. Second, you sure as hell know more than I do in any case. And third, even if you don’t, you could just write whatever, I’ll sign it anyway,” he declared. “But I have, like, a few things I will insist on!”

They talked a bit more about some of the finer details (for example Noctis adamantly insisted on giving him a guaranteed off day every week, and Ignis had to explain that the very idea was unrealistic at best) before Gladio eventually returned. 

He gave them a summary of Acutis confession, and they all had a hard time believing what they heard. If he was telling the truth, then the guy was plainly insane. But at least it would mean that they did not have to fear a retaliation from possible associates. 

Their discussion was interrupted by Prompto blowing up Noctis’ phone. The poor guy hadn’t heard anything about the current events, and only Noctis being absent from school in combination with the security personnel combing through Noctis city apartment tipped him off that something was going on. He was understandably angry at not being informed about anything, and threatened to come over “Right now and fighting the crownsguard to get inside if I have to, so you better make sure to let me in!”

They laughed about his fierce determination, and joked about how cute Prompto was when he was angry, but they took the job of fighting the crownsguards for a hall pass onto themselves. (Prompto would start training a month later on Noctis insistence, since he could very well become a target like Ignis did, and with a gun in his hands Prompto was suddenly much less cute and more downright frightening). 

Prompto was visibly upset at about the news, and Ignis decided to replace lunch with the chocolate cake to help them all calm down. Today was reason for an exception if he’d ever seen one. The four of them sat together for the remainder of the afternoon, avoiding the topic as they chatted about anything and nothing. 

Eventually, Noctis had to leave, his father calling him to a personal meeting, and Gladio of course had to go with him. Prompto excused himself a little later, stating that he still had homework to do. 

The next few days were very busy ones indeed. The investigation around Acutis picked up on the following day, and Ignis had to sit through several interrogations himself, first giving his initial statement and then being called back four times for additional questions as new evidence came to light. 

He also started drafting the new work contracts. The basis was similar enough to the previous ones to adopt most of it, but he had to make some changes, and wording legal documents was always a very time-consuming task. 

Despite the paperwork not being finished, he resumed his duties the very day after Acutis detention, because frankly there was no one else around who could do it, and neither Ignis nor Noctis wanted to search for someone to take over, for obvious reasons. 

Cleaning up after Acutis took quite a lot of his time, and Ignis was reminded as to why he had refused to take a break in the first place.

(“No Noctis, this charity auction is just an excuse for the people in the entertainment industry to get thoroughly plastered, and Astrals know what else they’ll pass around during the afterparty, you are certainly _not_ going to attend _that_!”) 

They received periodic updates on the investigations, and after a week all evidence suggested that Acutis had operated alone, much to everybody’s relief. His motivations came as a shock to Ignis, because it did indeed sound like Acutis was outright insane, and he wondered how he could have overlooked such madness. 

This was what finally made him go to the labyrinth himself. He wanted to see with his own eyes just who that man really was. What he found in the end was a pitiful, deluded excuse for a person. There was a fanaticism in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but Ignis was convinced that he had known full well what he had tried to do. He didn’t stay long. 

Surprisingly, he found that he wasted very little thought on Acutis after that last encounter. Of course Ignis took some valuable lessons from the whole ordeal, but on a personal level he was not that affected by the betrayal of a ‘friend’. Noctis and Prompto tried to breach that topic a few times, asking if he wanted to talk about it, but Ignis had very little to say. 

The news that Acutis had gotten a lifelong prison sentence were no more spectacular than the weather report for that day, at least to Ignis. He was just glad to know that he would no longer have to plan around this possible threat, and that was that. 

Their lives quickly returned to normal after that. Or at least a new normal. Of course people fussed over him in the first few days (very kind but unnecessary) and rumours and speculation skyrocketed (to be expected), and Ignis had to deal with more than one overly curious theorist (outright rude). 

Thankfully, most people were understanding, and he found that he was given way more leeway even by the council members. Ignis believed that this had something to do with one of the more prominent rumours, in which both the king and the prince were personally involved in the investigation to a major degree, and that they had silently gotten rid of some associates of Acutis (not entirely untrue, but not spot on either).

Noctis in particular was very accommodating the in the first few weeks, hardly protesting or bickering like he usually did when he had to attend meetings, get out of bed or prepare a speech. He didn’t even complain about the food the way he usually did, and Ignis was sent home more than once on the account of working too long. 

When that happened, Ignis resorted to sitting on the couch in Noctis room, dropping whatever he had been doing at the moment and leaving Noctis to deal with it (after he had left Noctis to deal with a half-finished lasagne on his own, inevitably ruining it and starting a small fire, he agreed that maybe they needed a new system). Their group of four got together more often now, and it had become an unspoken rule to type a quick message into the group chat whenever they had to go home late at night, and they made a lot more random calls under silly pretences, when all they wanted was to check in with each other. 

Things had changed, that much was certain. The paranoia that always accompanied attacks against Noctis or the king lingered for longer, maybe because they could no longer be certain that looking out for Noctis was enough. They had to look out for themselves as well. 

And their foe had been hiding in the Citadel for years. Ignis noticed that Gladio and Noctis eyed people with open suspicion more than one time, and he found himself doing the same. Even Prompto held back a little more when introduced to a new person. 

But there were also good things. 

One evening a few weeks later, they had all gotten together in Noctis apartment for a movie night, ordering pizza and celebrating Prompto getting his drivers’ license first try. 

They were squeezing together on the sofa, which was definitely not made to seat four people, especially if one of said people was Gladio. Prompto had gone to the kitchen to get drinks, and Noctis had seized the opportunity and relocated from the armrest to Promptos abandoned spot between Ignis and Gladio. 

When Prompto came back, he retaliated by unceremoniously throwing himself across all their laps, accidentally kicking Ignis and elbowing Gladio in the process, and a few moments later they were all trying to wrestle the squiggly blonde off towards the floor, and Prompto in return clung onto Noctis in an attempt to take him down as well. 

When they eventually all ended up in a heap on the floor, shouting and laughing at each other, Ignis couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to still be alive, and to be surrounded by these glorious idiots on top of that. 

Life in the Citadel wasn’t easy. Being advisor to the future king wasn’t easy. Being a good friend to the others sometimes clashed with his duties, and that wasn’t easy. 

But despite all that, right now, sitting on the hard floor, listening to Gladio and Noctis fight over the last slice of pizza whilst Prompto used their distraction to quietly steal it for himself, he found that he was perfectly happy where he was, especially knowing that these kinds of blessings should never be taken for granted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is over, huh? 
> 
> I would like to thank my beta reader for giving me feedback and discussing punctuation rules, the OSTs of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Xenbolade Chronicles and Persona for drowining out the noisy neighbours, coffee for keeping me going, and of course everybody who made it this far and enjoyed the story. 
> 
> Your feedback was incredible! This is the first story I have ever written (aside from essays for school and uni lol), and I would have never imagined the amount of comments and kudos I have gotten for this!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, especially when the characters sometimes took matters in their own hands and suddenly reacted differently than I originally planned, which resulted in the over 60+k we have now.
> 
> I would like to keep on writing, but I'll have to find a new idea first. Maybe I'll see a few of you again then! If anybody has a good prompt, feel free to share!


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